Dovahkiin
by Akari78
Summary: Small sequel to At Dawn's Light. Still reeling in her return to mortality, Yosa'Min finds herself struggling with nightmares of a dragon and daedric prince. With her love Mjoll the Lioness at her side, Yosa'Min is set on a path to find answers. This path however, brings her to face someone she'd been too afraid to face for years.
1. Chapter One

**Dovahkiin**

 **Chapter One**

The air was frigid, laced with ice that clung to the dragon's scales where it was perched high above the realm, blue eyes staring into the storm that broiled above Skyrim, lightning arcing outwards as sheets of rain fell to the province below. It covered the entirety of the sky, reaching as far across the land as the northern Ghost Sea to the southern Jerall Mountains between Skyrim and Cyrodill. Nothing was free of the mighty tempest.

The dragon gave a slow hiss, spreading rose and crimson wings as it forwent the inner voice urging it not to fly. It whispered that the storm was far too powerful, that it'd be tossed about like a leaf doomed to fall if it were to dare. However, no mighty dragon would hear such cowardice.

With a great, powerful heave it took flight, flapping with might and pride as it soared right towards the storm, maw open in defiance as it drew nearer. Gusts of wind ripped at the dragon, trying to send it falling to the world below, freezing rain crashing against crimson scales with tremendous force. It wavered, struggling for a few moments, but refused to give in, as proud as any dragon. The creature was massive, rival only to Alduin perhaps in its size, and determined to prove its worth for such a stature.

The dragon gave a roar, fire in its maw as it banked around the largest of the clouds, rising higher into the air on the strong gusts of wind. The storm beckoned, and it met its challenge with gusto.

A bolt of lightning whisked past the dragon, inches from striking and making energy roll across crimson scales. Another arc of lightning came towards it, as if aimed by some force, and the dragon rolled tightly away, narrowly avoiding being struck down like an eagle by an arrow. The clouds bent, wrapping around the flying serpent as if to smother it, the roar of the storm deafening. Flames burned from the dragon's mouth, blasting the dark storm clouds away, keeping them at bay just a moment longer. Its tail lashed outwards, clearing a breath of cloud only for it to immediately reform.

It was going to be swallowed whole by the darkness, rain and wind battering its form from all around, lightning whisking past and turning its blood to fire. Up there in the clouds it was blind, nothing but black illuminated by the flashes of lightning. The beast grew deaf, unable to hear its own breathing in the torrent. A gust of wind smashed into its back, offsetting it and causing it to lose control for a moment. It growled in anger and snapped at the clouds, only for the substance to shove itself down the dragon's gullet, trying to suffocate it. Panicking, the dragon breathed fire, expelling the invasive storm and gasping for air.

The creature's heart raced, fear gripping it as it realized the folly of its choice.

Tucking its wings close, the beast dove towards Skyrim where it had become flooded, the rivers overflowing from the storm. Rain pelted its hide, fat angry drops like stones with each drop that hit. The lightning gave chase, jolting nearby, barely missing each time. Panic made its heart beat louder than the thunder in its ears, echoing like a promise should it try again to best the sky. As the dragon settled on the ground, staring up in terror at the stormcloud, it gaped as the tempest twisted.

A face appeared amongst the clouds, dark and sinister with eyes of pure lightning, an image that was like a distant memory. Menacing curved horns pointed down at the dragon, gnashing fangs made of ice and Oblivion, looming like the monster it was. Yet as the creature stared, wings tucked against its shivering body, flooded rivers rising higher and higher to consume the dragon, it _knew_ the face, the name rising up as thunder turned into a cackle of dark laughter.

Molag Bal.

With a roar of thunder he swooped down upon the dragon, fangs and lightning dashing towards the helpless creature, clouds convulsing into a tornado as the Daedric prince attacked. The dragon took off, using every bit of strength it possessed to dodge the abomination. The rivers moved after it, turning into a viscous substance, sucking at limbs in an attempt to bring it down into the cold watery depths. The terrible vortex behind the dragon pulled, drawing the creature back and making its struggle for freedom all the harder.

Molag Bal screeched in fury, pursuing with violence and hate. The world around the dragon steadily was reduced to flashes of lightning reflected in the black water, wings flapping as swiftly as they could to carry it away from the monster behind it, feet pushing off anything that got in its way, twisting and twirling with desperation. It could just faintly make out the snowy mountain top it'd been perched upon, the Throat of the World, and lifted itself towards the high peak hoping for some refuge.

As its wings picked it higher into the air, straining against the winds and rain, the roar of Molag shuddered the world around it. It was nearly there, moments from what it knew was safety, able to see the word wall and a light that radiated from the stone. Hope filled the dragon, wings aching from the effort, lungs burning with exertion.

Lightning struck the dragon, cracking through its body with a boom of thunder. Agony escaped its maw, raw energy shooting through the dragon like an arrow. It arched, lingering in the air for a few painful moments as it stared up at the mountain, before plummeting down to the waters below. Molag Bal cackled in triumph, sweeping forward among the clouds to conceal the Throat from the dragon, fangs pulled in a twisted smile with tornado arms reaching for the dragon. It gave one last, agonizing gasp, before the flooded rivers devoured it, pulling it to a cold watery grave.

* * *

Yosa'Min awoke with a sharp gasp, heart racing and body chilled to the core. She stared at the wall, focused intently on one point as the image filled her vision, sharp and painful. Every inch of her skin crawled, the sensation of wings a fading memory yet she could feel them, pressed against her scales and tucked under a muscular body. Phantom fangs pierced her neck, burning and dominating, a cry escaping her as she held her pillow, unable to move, tears filling her eyes.

 _You are mine!_ A painfully familiar voice screamed, claws raking down her brain. She screamed, clutching her skull, fighting against the otherworldly presence trying to claim her. Water filled her lungs, gurgling in her throat and drowning her where she lay as fire burned her skull. All she saw was Molag Bal, his face made of clouds with eyes of lightning.

"Yosa!" Mjoll's voice cut through the chaos, dispelling the wings and fangs as the golden haired nord filled her vision, gripping her wrists and protectively pinning her to the bed. "What's going on? Are you okay?" Her accented voice quivered with worry, guilt piercing the redguard's heart at the panic she'd sent her love into.

She gasped, struggling to find her voice and staring up at the painted face of her nordic love. "No."

Mjoll frowned heavily, pulling the redguard up to a sitting position and staring deeply at the Dragonborn's scarred face, trying to discern the cause of Yosa'Min's nightmares. "What's going on? This is the third time this week you've awoken like this."

"I… I don't know. I-" The words died in her throat, Yosa'Min averting her gaze and clenching her fists.

"Please Yosa, tell me what's happening. I can't help if I don't know," desperately urged the former adventurer, endless thoughts of what could be wrong filling her mind.

Tucking her chin against her chest, Yosa'Min kept her gaze off Mjoll. "I keep seeing this dragon and then a face… Molag Bal."

Mjoll stiffened, lips drawn into a thin line. "Are you sure?"

Whimpering once more, Yosa'Min gave a nod. "Yes. I don't know how I know but it's him, every time… and he's started to win."

It grew silent between them, the pair dwelling on what it might mean. Yosa'Min's mind a mess of foggy memories, and midnight panic while Mjoll tried to figure out how to comfort her love. "Come here," Mjoll said softly, blue eyes blinking up at her as the nord gave a soft smile, holding her arms out. Instantly Yosa'Min moved, nuzzling against the larger woman as Mjoll wrapped her muscular arms around her, kissing the top of short black hair as Yosa'Min nestled against her. "I'm sorry this keeps happening," she whispered, rubbing circles in the archer's back, trying her best to soothe her. The bite mark scar burned on her neck, the entire left side in flames as Yosa'Min pictured that monstrous face, twisted horns and exposed teeth so terrifying it froze her in place even there in Mjoll's arms. "Do you think… Do you think it might be related to having been a vampire?"

Yosa'Min neglected to answer for some time, instead pressing her face against Mjoll's collarbone, one hand gripping the rough material of her love's sleep shirt. "It has to be," she finally whispered, voice frail. "What else could it be?"

Mjoll gave a faint sigh. "Well maybe we should head up to the College then? I'm sure Siulon could make sense of it, being the expert that she is. Would you like to go in the morning? I'm sure Iona would love to see you in person instead of just reading a letter."

"It would be nice to see her," agreed Yosa'Min, still hiding against Mjoll. "Speaking with Siulon does sound smart too."

"Then how about we go? Do you think you could manage that? I know that's all the way across Skyrim and you haven't slept well but…" Mjoll trailed off. She couldn't think of anything else to do, everything involving vampires still confusing even after what they'd learned and been through.

It'd been about two months since Yosa'Min had been cured, spring at last reaching the northern province and melting the snow that'd blanketed the ground. In that time Iona had departed for the College of Winterhold, studying under Siulon and the other masters as she fully embraced the magical abilities she'd shunned for years. It had been hard to see her go, Yosa'Min struggling to accept her feelings on the matter but understanding that Iona couldn't bear to be around the home she'd lived in with her lost love any longer. She couldn't force her to stay where she could not, especially after releasing the nord from her housecarl oath, and so had put on a bravest face she could manage when Iona finally moved on.

Lydia's absence was still quite a weight upon the redguard, Mjoll finding her reading old books with tears in her eyes that only could have belonged to the deceased housecarl. Mjoll doubted there'd ever be a day she wasn't there, lingering in the woman's mind, but she'd started to get better. Less often would she seem lost in memory and grief, moving with purpose as she focused on finding her brother, figuring out a way to save him from the Oblivion his soul had found itself within.

As of late however, that purpose was waning, Yosa'Min finding it hard to wake up in the mornings, struggling with even the simplest of tasks. At first Mjoll had suspected she was slipping back into a depression, the rejuvenation of her resurrection wearing off as more reminders of the parts of her life that felt broken were given to her. The emptiness of her home, no housecarl to keep her company in the waning hours of the day, was quick to settle like a ghost. No Lydia there, with a smile and cup of tea or Iona urging her to go out and experience the world. She was alone there, with only letters to keep her company for those few days until Mjoll had made a decision that'd changed things for the better.

It hadn't been long after Iona had departed that Mjoll had moved in with the redguard, a terrifying and exciting prospect. Aerin had been quite put out by her departure, but could only agree it was for the best and wish her luck. It was only then that she'd discovered the redguard was having nightmares, some minor and others leaving her crying when she awoke such as this one had. Each time she tried to get her to discuss it however, Yosa'Min would clamp up, afraid of speaking the words as if it would make them true. This was the first time she'd gotten her to discuss any of the nightmare with her.

"We should go," Yosa'Min said, voice soft and pained, "better than doing nothing right?"

Giving an agreeing nod, Mjoll pulled back just enough to look the redguard in the eyes, admiring the beautiful blue hue. She'd never tire of seeing them. "I'm sure she'll know what to do, all of Iona's letters rave about how clever she is."

"Not to mention she's the only reason you all knew how to save me," added Yosa'Min, a hand moving to brush the bite marks. Every so often she could feel the burn of Serana's fangs there, painful and intoxicating. Mjoll gently leaned closer, tenderly kissing the idle hand, Yosa'Min making a soft noise in response.

"Do you think you could fall back asleep?" Inquired Mjoll, admiring the beautiful woman on her lap. "This one seemed quite bad."

Yosa'Min shrugged, uncertain. "Not for a while," she managed, wrapping her arms around Mjoll's neck. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's alright," Mjoll whispered, holding her love tightly, to think she'd nearly lost her before. "I've had my share of midnight awakenings," she added, "after Aerin saved me and I'd nearly lost my life... What you went through, both your turning and revival, I can only imagine how traumatic it was."

Silence fell between them, Yosa'Min resting her head on Mjoll's chest, the nord still rubbing circles in her back. It was peaceful there in her arms, but even still she could feel that darkness lurking, a promise that should she close her eyes it would return and swallow her whole. "What if Siulon doesn't know what to do?" Yosa'Min asked, almost like a child.

"We'll deal with that if that happens," Mjoll said firmly, "but she might know so don't worry about that right now okay?"

Sighing, Yosa'Min gave a small nod. "Right, it's stupid to think of that. She'll know… Siulon knows everything."

"Not everything," Mjoll corrected with a soft laugh, "but close enough."

"How isn't that mer the Arch-Mage already?" Snickered Yosa'Min, trying desperately to distract herself, anything to keep that monster from her mind.

"From Iona's letters, it seems she isn't found to be… pleasant enough."

"That tough huh?"

"She certainly wasn't soft with her words while Iona trained there for that short time, and was quite blunt with her thoughts on our chances," replied Mjoll, "but she knows what she's talking about. Otherwise we can see Falion, if she doesn't know he will."

Yosa'Min gave another nod, the semblance of a plan comforting to the redguard. Her heart had stopped racing, the roar faded from her ears and the burning died down to a merely unpleasant itch. "Okay." She could accept that, hold onto it as some form of hope that someone knew what was wrong and how to fix it. She had to believe someone did, else that familiar pit would swallow her whole.

"You okay?"

"I don't know… But I'm better."

Mjoll looked down at her, tender and concerned. "Anything I can do?"

Yosa'Min pulled a bit on the nord's jerkin, Mjoll allowing her to guide her back onto the bed they shared. The home was dark, only the soft light of the dying fire in the kitchen illuminating it and the small shafts of moonlight that peaked between curtains. Mjoll had made a few decorative changes to Honeyside since her arrival, Yosa'Min willing to do most anything to make the nord comfortable and one such change was the bed. The much softer, and more importantly larger, mattress yielded to them as they lay down, Mjoll hovering over the redguard, uncertain just what she had in mind. "Don't let me go," Yosa'Min requested, "I don't feel him as much with you."

The nord gave a soft nod, laying down besides the redguard who instantly curled against her, one arm laying across the redguard and pulling her even closer. The warmth between them was nearly enough to make her forego a blanket, though the redguard was soon searching for the thick green thing. Once covered up, Mjoll felt Yosa'Min's breathing steady, fingers intertwining with Mjoll's.

It grew silent between them for some time again, Mjoll listening to Yosa'Min's breathing and feeling the warmth shared between them. Yosa'Min gave a small sigh, her eyes lidding with dark thoughts as worries began to fill her mind. Even if Molag Bal's grip, be it true or something lingering from the nightmare, was lessened in Mjoll's arms it didn't stop the fears from rising within her. What could it mean if he still had a hold of her, if she wasn't truly free from his grasp as she'd thought her return of mortality had done? She still felt a connection with Serana, the bond between them weaker than before but when her mind shifted to the vampire it was still there, lingering just like Lydia. Perhaps that meant Molag Bal was still there, worming his way inside of her through that intimate connection. The thought made her chest clench, revulsion at the mere notion enough to make her gasp sharply.

"Do you remember the temple?" Mjoll asked, drawing her from the thoughts that consumed her. She was quite good at that, bringing the small woman back to reality when she drifted elsewhere in her mind. "When you carried me back to town?"

"Yeah…" Yosa'Min whispered, "that was one of the best nights of sleep I'd had in a long while."

"Me too," admitted Mjoll, "why do you think I love cuddling with you?"

"What," Yosa'Min laughed, "it's not just because you think I'm attractive?"

"Well- that is certainly part of it," Mjoll laughed back, Yosa'Min turning around to face her, legs and hands intertwining. "But also because whenever we're together I feel like nothing can hurt me. I'm safe with you, just like how you made me feel that night."

The redguard's face softened, blue eyes lidding with thought. "I do too," she whispered, kissing Mjoll tenderly. The golden haired woman made a soft noise when Yosa'Min pulled back, nuzzling against her chest, arms wrapping around one another until they were fully intertwined. The ache vanished at last, Yosa'Min feeling Mjoll's heartbeat and the nord her's, soothing as she at last pushed those dark thoughts away. There in her love's arms, Yosa'Min felt like nothing could touch her, not even the Daedric prince.

"We'll figure this out," Mjoll vowed softly, "just try and get some rest for now."

"Thanks," Yosa'Min yawned, closing her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"See you in the morning love," Mjoll replied, kissing the top of Yosa'Min's head as they returned to sleep. They had a long day of travel ahead of them, and many questions in need of answering. If they were lucky, Siulon or Falion would have them, else Mjoll feared what they might do.

* * *

 **AN: While a lot later than I earlier intended to start writing this, truth be told I burned myself out a little on Skyrim after writing Dawn. However, I've finally got the feeling for it back, and to be quite honest I simply missed Yosa'Min. I hope you're ready to read more of her story, as Dovahkiin will be a short bridge between "At Dawn's Light" and "Lost Souls". If you haven't read Dawn, I'd highly advise doing so before continuing on with this venture. Thanks so much for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

No matter how many times Mjoll visited the College of Winterhold she wouldn't grow tired of the icicle laden archways or the blue light of the mana pools. The stone structure, isolated upon what didn't crumble away into the Sea of Ghosts during the Great Collapse, was beautiful. Mjoll adored the way it glistened at sunset, the vibrant oranges and reds of the dying sun casting it in a warm glow that spread a certain joy throughout the nord. It reminded her of a certain talk she'd held with her love there upon that bridge, where they'd confessed their feelings to one another.

Looking down at the tired, short redguard at her flank, Mjoll was a bit dismayed to see Yosa didn't share the sentiment. Instead, she squinted, trying to shield her eyes from the glow and grimaced with discomfort. Mjoll gave Yosa'Min a small nudge and smile, blue eyes turning up to her and the smirk she gave in return made Mjoll's cheeks burn. Yosa'Min was quite skilled at making her blush, the smallest of smiles or softest of laughs making the nord turn red.

It had been a long day of travel for them, catching a carriage up to the snowy hold just after dawn. Yosa'Min was far too tired to make the journey on foot, nor was she willing to spend the time it would take, doubling it at the least given good traveling conditions. Most of the time was passed with Yosa'Min resting against Mjoll, a blanket laden across them courtesy of the carriage driver. Mjoll had told Yosa'Min amusing tales from her youth she'd yet to share, or perhaps Yosa'Min was simply too polite to inform her it was the fifth time hearing them.

By the time they'd arrived Mjoll was quite sure her love had dozed off at least three times during her stories, not minding if the woman tried to catch a bit of sleep considering her recent lack thereof and loving the way she rested her head upon her shoulder. Mjoll was content to be a source of comfort for her aching love, trying to keep her thoughts from descending into worry as they drew closer to what she hoped to hold the answers for Yosa'Min's ongoing condition. Despite the brave face she put on, fear chewed away at her, Mjoll having no idea what they'd do if neither mage had a solution.

As the pair drew near to the College's entrance gate, they strode away from the carriage driver down the single street of Winterhold, having to swerve around half melted pools of ice in the unkept road. Faralda smiled upon spotting them from her gatehouse, waving in greeting to the duo. "It's always a pleasure to see you Lady Mjoll, Lady Yosa'Min," the altmer called, "what brings you to the College this evening?"

Mjoll smiled in return. "Greetings Faralda, is Siulon in?"

"I do believe she and the apprentices have returned from their field trip," she replied, frowning with thought. "Yes, just this morning in fact. They might be resting, then again knowing that mer she'll have had them reviewing their studies all day."

Yosa'Min snickered softly, giving Faralda a friendly nod. Though she'd learned how Mjoll had made herself quite known at the College, befriending many of its staff and students, it still surprised her just how much they liked the former adventurer. Then again, considering how quickly she'd come to like the woman, it shouldn't have shocked her. "Was Iona part of that?" She inquired, hopeful for her friend's academic growth.

"Most certainly, she's showing quite a lot of promise you know. Brelyna best be careful, Iona might become Siulon's new apprentice otherwise." Faralda then gestured to the box she kept nearby in her little gatehouse. "Well you are certainly familiar with the rules Lady Mjoll, any weapons you might have belong in there until your departure. Not as if we don't trust you, but rules are rules."

"Of course," Mjoll said simply, laying her warhammer against the stone brick. Yosa'Min stashed her quiver of ebony arrows into the box, laying Auriel's bow against Mjoll's. Despite how powerful it was, and the risk she carried in bringing it along with her, Yosa'Min much rather kept it near rather than risk someone breaking into her home and stealing it. The former thief was under no delusions that her home was secure from those who were adept at thievery like she. Having it there with her allowed her to feel more comfortable possessing the powerful artifact, not to mention she could then use it against any who attempted to steal it right from her hands.

Faralda opened the gate behind her, stepping out of the way and giving them a small nod as they passed. Mjoll smiled some as she noticed the bridge wasn't near as ruinous as before, a makeshift wooden railing in place to help keep one from falling off the edges to the chasm below. While clearly still an ongoing project, Mjoll lightened at the thought that the College was starting to get back onto its feet. With any luck, that return to glory would proud through the entire city. They strode across it with more confidence than ever before, hands intertwined. Pushing the black iron gate adorned with the intricate eye shaped emblem of the College open, they entered the courtyard.

It was beautiful, a perfect sanctuary from the harsh outside world with icy grace. The impressive statue of Shalidor drew blue eyes, hands spread in a powerful pose. Yosa'Min made a soft noise, vague memories of being in the large mana pool in front of the statue as she clung to life flashing through her mind, her grip on Mjoll's hand tightening. "You alright?" Mjoll inquired, looking down at her love.

"Not really," she admitted, heart beating fast. "I just hope Siulon knows what to do."

"I'm sure she will," Mjoll encouraged, scanning the courtyard for the vampire expert. There was no sign of her or anyone in fact between the snowberry bushes, small trees and stone archways within the courtyard. The doors to the three different towers were closed, mage light orbs twinkling over mana pools, the magical noises soft and soothing in their ears. "Let's check the center hall, where they have their lectures."

"Gods I hope we don't interrupt," Yosa'Min uttered, "I doubt she'd be in a mood to talk if we do."

"Only one way to find out," replies Mjoll, tugging the worrying redguard along. As they rounded the courtyard to the double doors of the Hall of the Elements, Yosa'Min stopped, forcing Mjoll to look back at her.

"What if she doesn't know?" Yosa'Min's eyes were anywhere but Mjoll, fidgeting where she stood. It wasn't that often Mjoll saw her so consumed with fear, the terror of what lay ahead paralyzing her in place like a frightened deer.

Mjoll sighed, reaching with her other hand and caressed Yosa'Min's cheek. "If she doesn't we'll see Falion," she reminded her.

"But what if he doesn't?"

"Yosa'Min," Mjoll breathed, kissing her brow as she tried to soothe the fear filling Yosa'Min. "We can't find out if we don't try, standing out here will do us no good."

"I know I know I just-" Yosa'Min cut herself off, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Right sorry, I'm being foolish."

"It's okay to be afraid," Mjoll reassured her.

Beautiful blues reopened, determination filling them. The sight made Mjoll smile. "Okay, I can do this."

"Yes you can," said Mjoll, squeezing her hand before turning back to the double doors of the Hall of the Elements.

The rounded chamber was impressive, with glass windows between each curve at least two stories high. There was no sign of the decay of Winterhold within it, elegantly carved stone archways with intricate designs etched into them supporting the upper levels of the tower, the windows a bit further away with just enough space for others to gather. The center of the hall was slightly lowered and had a mana pool, large and impressive on a raised platform with stone steps surrounding it. Stone lines spread outwards from the pool like the spokes of a wheel, five large sigils of the College upon the floor.

Hovering above the blue pool was a massive sphere with glowing intricate runes upon it and strange workings, Yosa'Min's eyes focusing on the pulsating object that positively seeped power. Her chest tightened just by standing near the door, a lightness filling her head that made her wonder how the mages could bear the thing. Standing around it was not only the dunmer they sought, but also five aspiring mages.

Siulon was besides the artifact, the blue glow casting her with an eerie light, instructing the varied students with a firm tone. Deciding it wise not to interrupt, the pair stood aside by the entrance and listened, taking in Siulon's class that had surely grown since last Mjoll had visited. "Now if I were to cast a fire based spell at you, what would be the best defensive response?" Siulon questioned, tone brisk as if to indicate this wasn't the first she'd asked this.

Yosa'Min smiled as she spotted Iona among the mages, dressed in apprentice robes and her hair had grown some since she'd left, long enough for a small bun now. Besides her was Onmund, the ginger nord man scribbling notes while J'Zargo, the light furred khajiit, threw his hand up, nearly elbowing the dunmer girl Brelyna in the face. "This one knows!" He shouted proudly, Siulon giving a small flick of her hand. Breylna forcefully lowered his hand, scowling. "A ward spell to protect oneself!"

"Very good," Siulon replied, "so not another flame spell to try and counter it?" She sightlessly glared at a student, one neither visitor knew. "Or is that what you would suggest Fabien?" A tan man with dark hair and a small beard straightened up, scowling softly as a hand defensively moved to his chest. To Yosa'Min he looked not quite breton, his face reminding her more of a bosmer. She arched a brow, it was quite rare to meet a half breed between man and mer.

"I take offense to that Master Siulon," he scoffed, "clearly I was joking last time, I know better than that. One cannot forget to cast a ward, considering how often you remind us." He mimed the scarred side of her face, J'Zargo snickering while the other three gave disapproving looks.

"Let's hope so," she teresely replied, clapping her hands and gesturing to the visiting pair. "Greetings Mjoll, Yosa'Min, I hope you don't mind if I continue my lesson, though I am nearly finished," she said, not turning to them. The students perked at the sight of them, Iona smiling broadly and giving a wave.

"Of course not," Mjoll replied, the pair waving back. Yosa'Min frowned in confusion, uncertain how the dunmer could tell it was them without them uttering a word. "We would like to speak to you when you're available, however."

"Certainly," Siulon said, "you may sit and listen if you would like, I am sure Yosa'Min could learn a thing or two about magic from a proper teacher."

"I know magic!" The redguard blurted, flushing indignantly.

The blind mage turned her head towards her, arching her burned away brow. "And who taught you? Yourself? Come, listen, one could always stand to learn more." Pouting, and a bit embarrassed as Fabien and J'Zargo snickered amongst themselves, Yosa'Min crossed over and joined them where they sat upon the steps. A certain uncomfortable tightness clutched her chest near the strange sphere, Yosa'Min wondering if the mages had simply gotten used to it, or if they even felt it as she did. Mjoll followed after, leaning against one of the stone archways. Iona smiled as the short redguard settled besides her, joy in green eyes at her presence and it warmed Yosa'Min's heart.

She'd missed her friend.

"As I was saying," Siulon began, "one must know the proper defense to an attack and vice versa. Should you be faced with an enemy that you are improperly suited to fight, the best decision is to flee."

"This one does not run!" J'Zargo proclaimed, "J'Zargo will not be known as a great and powerful mage if he flees from glory!"

"You'll also never be known as great if a warrior cuts you in two when you should have fled," Siulon harshly replied, "we are mages not brutes, use your mind not your body." J'Zargo sulked while Fabien stuck his tongue out at the khajiit. "Iona, you have experience on the battlefield, if you were faced with an enemy your greater what would you do?"

The former housecarl straightened up, taken off-guard at her inclusion and brushed a few strands of hair back before she found her voice. "Well, I rarely fought by myself. Having someone at your side is a true boon, especially if your enemy is alone. The few times I was faced with one I couldn't handle on my own, or even as a team, I would rely on my wits to carry me through the battle. As a housecarl, I was taught to be willing to give my life for my thane, to sacrifice everything if need be." She glanced to Yosa'Min, memory swirling in her eyes. "However, what I have learned is that there are many battles too big for a single person, and if you cannot win sometimes it is best to run and survive another day. Perhaps there's no honor in it, but dying for nothing is worse if you ask me." Yosa'Min gave a small smile at her words, catching the way her fellows listened with respect.

A small smile slipped across Siulon's face, and she dipped her head. "Wise words indeed. No matter how much you study, how many hours you spend with your nose in a book and practice your spells, if you do not experience the world you will never truly learn."

"Surely one should be prepared however," challenged Fabien, J'Zargo nodding in agreement. "Throwing yourself simply into a situation for the sake of experience sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. So what's wrong with taking the time to learn? This is why we're here isn't it?" Onmund pouted with thought, looking between Fabien and Siulon.

"I would never send you into something I did not think you as ready as you could be," Siulon replied, arms crossed. "However, there are some things no book can teach you. Life is truly the greatest teacher, if only you listen to its lessons." Yosa'Min scanned the students, catching perhaps only J'Zargo not lost in some thought at Siulon's words. There was certainly a truth to what the blind mage said. Yosa'Min had grown as not only a mage and rogue, but also a person, due to what life brought her way rather than some formal education. A hand moved to her bite scar, the woman wondering if this would be another lesson life had brought her way.

"Now," Siulon said, drawing them back from their thoughts, "I suppose it is getting quite late isn't it? For your homework I would like you each to write a paper over the proper offensive and defensive tactics we discussed upon our expedition, and how you would best apply them. I expect them done by our lecture tomorrow evening with Collette over the integration of restorative magic in combat." Various groans of complaint were given, Yosa'Min smirking as only Brelyna and Iona seemed unbothered by the task. "Any questions?"

No one openly spoke up, the students rising to their feet and stretching. Iona lingered, watching as Fabien left by himself, Onmund and J'Zargo arguing over if experience or academic knowledge was better while Brelyna rolled her eyes and followed her friends out. Siulon waited for the sound of the heavy doors closing before she turned to Yosa'Min and Mjoll. "Something's wrong, isn't it?" She simply asked, a frown upon her face.

Grimacing, Mjoll gave a nod. "Aye, Yosa'Min has been having… nightmares."

"What about?" Iona questioned, green eyes closely observing Yosa'Min. She gasped as she took note of the bags beneath blue eyes and the raggedness that clung to her smaller frame. "Are you alright?" Iona tenderly put a hand on Yosa'Min's shoulder.

Siulon waved a hand for Iona to be quiet, squinting at Yosa'Min who once more found her skin burning under the weight of her sightless gaze. "You suspect it is from being a vampire?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Yosa'Min replied, "I… I keep seeing a dragon, and then a monster… Molag Bal." Siulon stiffened, before gesturing for them to follow her as she swiftly exited the Hall of the Elements. Yosa'Min frowned, warily looking at Iona who could only shrug at her teacher's behavior, before following Siulon up the stairwell towards the Arcanaeum. Moving away from that strange artifact made the tightness in her chest fade, Yosa'Min breathing a sigh of relief.

Mjoll's skin crawled with nerves, the last time she'd spoken with Siulon in the College's grand library it had been when they'd first met and Siulon informed them they were doomed to fail in saving Yosa'Min. Though ultimately she'd been proven wrong, it didn't bode well to renter. Once they'd rounded the stairwell into the splendid library Siulon instantly walked along the bookcases with a hand trailing until she found the right shelf, muttering softly under her breath where the book she sought would be.

"Iona," she called, the redhead swiftly approaching, "pull out the book Daedra and Dreams." After a bit of searching Iona found it, pulling a thick and leather bound tome out. "Thank you," Siulon said as she took it, feeling its binding as if to assure herself it was the correct one before shoving it back towards Iona. "Hold onto it for now. We shall see what exactly I will reference." Addressing Yosa'Min once more, she sighed softly. "How long have you been having these nightmares and what exactly do you see? I need you to be precise Yosa'Min."

Biting her cheek, Yosa'Min averted her gaze for a moment before giving a soft sigh. "They started almost immediately, but at first they were just a darkness, nothing really in them. I'd hear a voice, angry with me… but I also wasn't me. I'm always this dragon, a proper one not the hybrid abomination I transformed into as a vampire."

"So they've changed?"

"Aye… it was simple at first, the voice and the dragon. I'd drift through the void, lost and unafraid, wandering aimlessly. At first I thought they were just because of my grief, and Falion had said it would take time for me to adjust back to being mortal. I wasn't afraid of them, they were strange and annoying more than anything else."

"When did they get bad?"

"A month ago perhaps? I'm not sure," Yosa'Min replied, holding herself as her mind drifted. "The black became a storm, always angry. Molag Bal appeared, not just his voice claiming I was his but his face too. He'd try to trap me, but I would escape somehow."

"And then?"

"I started to lose," Yosa'Min admitted, lips curling to reveal fangs. "He'd catch me, hurt me, kill me even. When I'd awake I'd almost always be crying, and I could feel him. His fangs in my neck, his claws raking my skin."

Siulon grimaced, Iona and Mjoll both frowning with concern. "You were having these dreams while I was still with you?" Iona questioned, a bit hurt. "Why didn't you tell me Yosa?"

Yosa'Min couldn't meet her gaze. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to stay, you were preparing to leave I could tell. To force you to remain for me would feel wrong."

"But I'm your friend, it's my job to be concerned about you," argued Iona.

"It's also your job to live your life."

"And if I wanted to live it helping you?"

Yosa'Min sighed thickly, heart beating fast. She didn't want to argue with Iona, it was the first time she'd seen her in a month. "Iona…" She weakly managed.

"It is difficult to speak of these things," Siulon interjected, "I doubt she meant to hurt you with keeping this to herself, but if she was having such difficulties to accept it herself there is no way she would have come to you with it." Iona blinked, and then averted her gaze shamefully. "So what has brought you here, how bad has it gotten Yosa'Min?"

"He killed me last night. There was no fight, there was no struggle, I had no chance from the start of the dream unlike before. I tried, Divines I tried, but I was so weak." She stared at her feet, picturing the face of Molag Bal in the clouds. It felt as if she'd truly fought that battle and so terribly lost, that it wasn't just a dream. "When I woke up I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. All I felt was fire and I was drowning, his fangs were in my neck... I could feel the wings still, the scales and horns, it felt like I was still in the dream yet I was awake, trapped within my body."

"What snapped you out of it?"

"Mjoll," she said, looking up at the concerned nord. "She brought me back."

"And what did he say, do you remember the exact words Molag used?"

"I'm his." Speaking the words made her heart twist, poison in her mouth and bile in her throat. "That's what it always is, that I belong to him, that I'm his." Mjoll's hand wiped away tears Yosa'Min hadn't realize she'd shed, Mjoll pulling her into a firm embrace.

Siulon gave a ragged sigh, running a hand through her dark crimson locks that fell to the right of her face and the other over the shaven left. "This is very bad Yosa'Min, I won't lie. Dreams of a daedra are not simply dreams, they act like portals to their realm. What you are seeing is in a way true, like a projection of the inner turmoil you are experiencing."

"What does that mean?" Mjoll inquired, trying to keep her voice from quivering.

"It means that she is losing this fight."

They swallowed dryly. "But something can be done, right?" Iona asked desperately, "It's not over yet, it can't be!"

"When a daedra and a mortal are connected, be if through a ritual, sacrifice, turning or otherwise, a pact is formed between them. A bond of sorts you could say. It is through this bond that a daedra controls and sways a mortal, stealing their souls away or granting them blessings and curses." Siulon gestured to the book. "Open to the section upon Molag Bal," she instructed, Iona swiftly obeying. "Molag Bal himself is the Prince of Domination, he thrives upon the corruption and enslavement of mortal souls. It is only natural that he would be upset that we stole you away from him."

"Siulon…" Iona whispered, having read over the text. "This isn't very uplifting."

"I know it isn't," replied Siulon, "tell them what it says."

"In summary, that Molag Bal is known to use dreams as a means of conquering one's soul if he is unable to manifest physically within Nirn, through an existing connection. Like a secret tunnel to one's soul."

"No," gasped Yosa'Min, "so even- but the ritual! Was it for nothing?"

"Certainly not," reassured Siulon, "if we hadn't performed that ritual you would be a vampire through and through right now. From what Falion informed me, your soul was more powerfully claimed than any other he's brought back. Molag Bal did not want to let you go, he fought with everything he could to prevent your escape and yet he failed. I suspected he might pursue your soul, but I did not imagine it would be this dire so swiftly."

"What do I do?" Yosa'Min asked desperately, stepping towards Siulon. "I can't, after everything that I've been through, lose to him now. I refuse! I belong to no one!" The fear boiled into rage, the spirit Mjoll admired surging forward with vigor. "I'll not be claimed by that monster!"

"Excellent!" Siulon encouraged, "Keep that fight Yosa'Min, for I'm afraid if you give up he will surely claim your soul. I don't know what he will do, turn you into a vampire once more, kill you entirely and sweep you away to Coldharbour… but don't give up. So long as you still fight, the Prince of Domination has not won."

"How do I stop this?"

Siulon grimaced, dwelling deep upon her thoughts. "Molag Bal takes any weakness and exploits it, any uncertainty that can be used and he shall. I believe this dragon you see is the key to defeating him. You have the soul of a dragon after all, something he might have never claimed before, perhaps that is why he so fiercely stalks for your soul?"

Yosa'Min frowned. "Well, sure my soul is…" She looked at the others, trailing off as the puzzle pieces clicked within her mind. "Wait. You mean to say my soul is truly that of a dragon? Not simply, like a dragon, blessed with dragonic qualities. It is… a dragon?"

"Well of course, you are Dovahkiin are you not?"

"Yes but…" Yosa'Min staggered. Certainly she'd been told many times over by Paarthurnax and the Greybeards that her soul was different, yet she never truly believed them. It wasn't possible that she was truly a dragon shoved within a mortal body was it? "Siulon…" She whispered, Mjoll steadying her. "I'm a redguard," she slowly said, breath coming in pained hitches. Her conversations with Paarthurnax and Durnehviir filled her mind, the easy way she conversed with the dragons. One particular conversation with the undead dragon struck her, she having not realized he had truly meant she was one of them. She always brushed it aside, the dragons trying to connect with her, forming a kinship with the closest thing to a dragon they could. Had she truly been one all along? "Just look at me."

"Some are more than they are on the surface," Siulon said simply, "there is a reason your transformation was not simply that of a vampire lord."

Her world seemed to tilt. This fact that Yosa'Min had ignored, if not outright denied, for so long thrown into her face. "You don't like being the Dragonborn," Iona said softly, "why?"

"Because it's brought nothing but trouble," Yosa'Min uttered, hissing almost, "my brother is dead because of it. Are you saying he wasn't truly my brother?" She nearly shouted, voice pitching with pain.

"Your soul doesn't change that," Siulon said firmly. "Think of your body like a chest, what it is on the outside doesn't change what is within."

"So now it's bringing me more trouble, Molag Bal wants me because of it! This fate is nothing more than a curse!" Mjoll seemed uncertain, reaching for Yosa'Min but the woman jerked away. "I can't change that about me! I can't rip it out and make it into what it should be! I didn't ask for it, whatever gods are up there forced it upon me! I'm a redguard not a dragon!"

Mjoll had only seen her get like this a few times, her heart clenching in her chest as the redguard ranted. "Yosa…"

"Why can't I catch a fucking break?"

"Yosa'Min!" Shouted Siulon, silencing her for a moment. "This is why he's winning."

"Excuse me?"

"You hate yourself." Silence filled the void between them, Iona and Mjoll stiff, apprehension upon the nords' faces. Siulon stared blankly at her, Yosa'Min scowling back. "I might not know you very well but I don't have to possess my sight to be able to see this. You already know what you are, you just deny it because you can't stand it."

"Being what I am has never done me any good," she replied bitterly.

"And because of that self hate, Molag Bal will win."

Yosa'Min snarled, fangs bared. They weren't as large before, but she still possessed that particular vampiric feature. "Why is that?"

"Because it's your weakness. This uncertainty, this refusal of acceptance of the very thing that you are… He will claim you if you do not come to peace with yourself. If he has nothing to hold over you, then he cannot win."

"What, are you suggesting I look myself in the mirror and say 'I forgive you'? That won't work."

Shaking her head, Siulon gave a bitter laugh. "If only it were that easy. No Yosa'Min, if you want to remove the hold Molag Bal has upon you, you will need to first find peace with yourself. Right now Molag Bal knows your soul better than you do, and that's a problem."

"Soul searching?" Mjoll asked a faint bit skeptically. She'd seen Yosa'Min, knew how often she ran from problems and dealing with emotions.

"I suppose you could call it that," Siulon shrugged. "Either way, your ignorance and self-hate are the root of the problem. You are a dragon Yosa'Min, you must accept that." There was a thick silence, Yosa'Min's mind swirling with the revelations. She had hoped for answers, but hadn't expected this. When she did not speak for some time, Siulon did instead. "Is there a place you can do to that might help you come to terms? This is truly the only option I see available to you, otherwise he will surely claim you."

The redguard stared at her, recalling the safe place in her dreams. "Fuck," she swore softly, starting to laugh, harsh and full of disbelief.

"What is it?" Mjoll questioned with worry.

"I know where I need to go… Who I need to talk to."

"Who?" Mjoll smiled, hope filling her yet Yosa'Min didn't seem so happy about it. Iona and Siulon listened with interest, worry upon the former housecarl's face. "If someone can help we should see them immediately!"

"The Throat of the World… The safe place in my dreams... Where Paarthurnax is." Yosa'Min pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who I also have avoided for almost three years now."

"Why?"

She lowered her hand, smiling ruefully up at Mjoll. "Because I'm afraid."


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Ivarstead had grown since Yosa'Min's last visit. In the span of three years the little mill town that doubled as the gatekeeper to the Throat of the World felt fuller. There was perhaps only one new house, the burned ruins across the river closest to the mountain repaired at last, but the people felt closer and there was a certain thickness in the air. Little children ran between the feet of busy lumber workers, a woman shouting on about bears from where she stood at the mill. The inn was full, a drunken man stumbling away with a pair of guards helping him along the single street town. A nord man was fishing in the river that cut along the inn and watermill, a graying woman and their daughter talking and joining with him. Dragonflies zipped past Yosa'Min, the song of birds in the trees and a lonely deer bleating in the woods.

How she'd missed spring.

Yosa'Min gave a small smile, a part of her quite pleased to see the little town growing. So much had suffered in the past few years, one crisis after another wearing down at the citizens of Skyrim. It was such a relief to the redguard to find a place so happy, free of the weariness the dragons, vampires and civil war had caused. A sense of peace nestled in her chest, hope that whatever came its way to Skyrim the people could find a way to persevere.

Then her gaze turned to the looming mountain, and that smile twisted into one of remorse. Clouds clung to the massive mountain, blotting out the setting sun. She could picture Paarthurnax up there on the peak, perched on the word wall and watching the burning sunset. As much as she'd tried to process the flurry of emotions and fears the impending reunion brought on the journey, Yosa'Min was still a mess of anxiety by the time of their arrival.

They'd spent the night in Winterhold, far too late had their arrival been for easy travel back south and across Skyrim. Instead, they'd spent the night speaking with Iona at the inn, catching up and sharing amusing stories over fine mead and food. Iona had many a fun story of her training to share, retelling how they had gone on an archeological expedition into the Nordic ruins of Saarthal and found the strange artifact, the Eye Of Magnus, that had been in the final chamber. They were still trying to decipher it's strange runes, but Iona was most interested in unlocking its secrets. Yosa'Min had encouraged her, glad to see Iona was enjoying her time at the College. It made her happy beyond words to know Iona was finding something to live for, a purpose as noble as scholarly discoveries.

When it had gotten late the lovers had stayed there at the inn, with plans of leaving come dawn just as before. Mjoll had been tender with the redguard, the thought of sleep an uncomfortable one now that she knew what awaited her in her dreams. Fortunately, Siulon had given Yosa'Min a potion that had granted her a dreamless sleep, keeping Molag Bal from visiting her in the night. Siulon however, had given a stern warning that it did not prevent him from growing closer to claiming her soul once more. It did little more than lessen the side effects, numbing the pain but not curing the disease.

Yosa'Min idly brushed the satchel on her hip, more of the potion within it. If it took long to reach this inner peace Siulon spoke of, at least she would have them to make the process all the easier. She would certainly be using one of them come nightfall, which was fast approaching. "Hey," Mjoll spoke, playing with their intertwined fingers and drawing her from her thoughts. "It'll be alright."

Yosa'Min blinked at her, and she gave an uncertain frown. "I haven't seen him in years," she countered, "what if he's angry? What if the fact that I've only come now because I'm in danger will just make him more upset?"

"He's an ancient dragon isn't he?" Mjoll said with a reassuring tease, "he has waited centuries atop that mountain, I'm sure three years were nothing to him."

She forced a smile. "But… I just…"

"You care what he thinks," Mjoll pointed out, "that's rare."

Yosa'Min sighed, stepping away from Mjoll. "Paarthurnax… He was important to me when I was dealing with the dragons. I was so lost, so afraid, and he helped me find the courage to take on Alduin, to fulfil my destiny."

"What changed?"

"I did. I… Got angry during one of his lessons. I said some things I shouldn't have, and left in a rush. I know I hurt him, even if he's got thick skin… What I said Mjoll… I wouldn't blame him if he hated me for it,"

The nord frowned, stepping after her. "What did you do my love?" She asked, lifting Yosa'Min's chin with a finger. Blue eyes stared up at her, fear and regret swimming within them. All Mjoll wanted to do was hold Yosa'Min until the pain left her, to banish the agony that filled her. Alas, she could but only help her love, not fix her.

Sighing shamefully, Yosa'Min closed her eyes. "I told him I wanted nothing to do with being a dragon, I didn't want to learn any of his… our ways. Our customs. I just wanted to be with my brother, and he was determined to teach me the Way of the Voice, as if he wanted to keep me up on that mountain until I was the next Jurgen Windcaller. When I defeated Alduin I awoke on the Throat of the World, dragons everywhere, and I couldn't even bring myself to speak to Paarthurnax… I just wanted to go home."

"Vastin was very important to you," Mjoll replied, "I'm sure he's come to accept that. You still completed your duty by defeating Alduin after all."

Yosa'Min couldn't meet Mjoll's gaze however, pulling away from her once more. "But he was right, Mjoll. I wasn't as ready as I thought I was, too arrogant, too hasty… I nearly died fighting Alduin, if I'd listened for just a little bit longer…" She shuddered at the memory, a hand ghosting some healed wound, eyes distant.

"Yosa," Mjoll said softly, taking her hands. "But you still did it. Perhaps you owe Paarthurnax an apology, yes, but you weren't completely wrong either. He'll forgive you, I'm sure of it... But he can't forgive you if you don't climb that mountain."

Several long moments passed, Yosa'Min listening to the bugs the zipped past, the laughter of the villagers and rustling of the trees. Then she looked up at the Throat of the World, and could already feel the bite of cold wind. "I'm so afraid Mjoll. If he doesn't forgive me, then I will never learn about who I really am. I'll never understand. Molag Bal will claim me for sure."

Pulling her short love into a tight embrace, Mjoll tried to squeeze the fear from her, chin resting atop Yosa'Min's head. "You don't have to go up there alone."

"Really?"

"Of course," Mjoll said swiftly, "I'll follow you into Oblivion if I have to."

Hugging her back, Yosa'Min felt a surge of confidence. "Okay… Okay. If you're there, I think I can do it." She stepped back just enough to stare up into Mjoll's golden eyes. She admired her love's beautiful face, the way green face paint covered the left side or how she'd taken to wearing her hair as of late, a bit more tamed with a braid on either side pulling around to meet in the back, golden locks tumbling free beneath them and a braid woven down in front of each ear. "You're beautiful," she added, wanting Mjoll to feel as loved and supported as the nord made her.

Blushing, Mjoll kissed her brow. "As are you my love. Now, are you ready to ascend the mountain?"

"Don't think it could wait until morn, not with a daedra trying to steal my soul," said Yosa'Min, steeling herself. "Let's climb the Seven Thousand Steps."

The pair walked hand in hand towards the bridge on the northern side of town, passing a little farm and the mill. A few guards called greetings after them, recognizing the Dragonborn, and Yosa'Min could only manage weak responses as they reached the bridge and the foot of the mountain. Yosa'Min paused for a moment, reverence almost consuming her as she looked up. The clouds wrapped around it like a stubborn child to a parent's leg, unyielding as they grew dark with night. A certain weight filled the redguard's chest, and she had to take a deep breath before she could move her legs again, Mjoll patiently waiting for her to gather herself.

Trees and an abundance of other foliage covered the bottom of the mountain, the pair ascending slowly as the steps started out not too steep, bending upwards along gentle curves. They were soon met with an emblem, a carving of dark stone reminiscent of a dragon with writings etched into its surface below what appeared to be a dragon head. Yosa'Min stared at it, remembering the first time she'd climbed the mountain, how hasty she had been to reach the peak and ignored them. She gently brushed the surface, taking in the words upon it.

"Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus; Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs; For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land," she said aloud, Mjoll listening with interest. "There are ten of these, all up the mountain until you reach High Hrothgar. Would you mind if we read them?"

"Of course not," Mjoll said, "I have never made this pilgrimage before, though I have visited Ivarstead… I would like to do it right if we could."

Smiling, encouraged by Mjoll, Yosa'Min started once more up the trail. It did not take long for age to show upon the path, swaths of it missing its stone steps, the ground growing sharper as they went. The comforting warmth of spring faded from the air as they progressed, reaching the second emblem. Mjoll spoke it this time, "Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus; The Dragons presided over the crawling masses; Men were weak then, and had no Voice."

Yosa'Min lingered on the words, grimacing at some thought before tugging on Mjoll's hand and they continued. The air grew brisk as they went up the steepening path, curving alongside the mountain until it flattened out, both of them grimacing a bit as their legs burned a bit but not out of breath just yet. They traveled in armor, Skyrim far too dangerous a place to dare cross it without protection, and Mjoll soon wondered if she might regret wearing heavy metal armor. Yosa'Min fared much better in her light leathers, still wearing her Thieves Guild armor due to it being, undeniably, a good set especially with so many pockets for her to use. She'd had a few modifications made to it, and Mjoll glanced at the red sash tied around her midsection. Squinting at it the nord could make out stitchings, as if Yosa'Min had repaired it herself.

Their path swept further up, Mjoll's armored feet slipping on a few iced over stones, Yosa'Min having to steady her. "Careful," teased Yosa'Min, "wouldn't want to sprain your ankle all the way up here, I don't think I could carry you back in that armor."

Smirking, Mjoll laughed. "Nay, I don't think you could with arms like those."

"Hey!" Scoffed Yosa'Min, "my arms aren't twigs! I've got muscle on them!"

"Aye, you do," replied Mjoll, winking at her as they continued along, kissing Yosa'Min playfully on the cheek. "Yet not enough to carry me down the mountain."

"Perhaps if I wasn't the same size as some children," grumbled Yosa'Min.

Mjoll chuckled tenderly, the noise making some of the building sorrow fade from Yosa'Min. "I think you're perfect as you are," she said, Yosa'Min blushing fiercely.

Steadily the world around them shifted, the ground becoming stiff with frost. Even with spring's approach, not all of the cold have been driven away, the mountain's height granting it more time basked in the snow of Skyrim. Trees soon became heavy with snow and thinned in number, rocks speckled with white and steps slick and uncertain. Mjoll nearly tripped twice more before they reached the third emblem. In front of it was a bowl filled with coins and flowers, offerings from pilgrims, Yosa'Min uncertain just who they were for.

"The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times; Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices; But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts," said Yosa'Min, laughing a bit at the end. "That sounds like me doesn't it, breaking hearts?"

Mjoll rolled her eyes. "I don't think it means romantically Yosa."

"They should be clearer with that then," Yosa'Min replied with a small laugh.

"I wouldn't think they'd need to."

"Mjoll, I have seen some crazy things in my adventures, and a man falling in love with a dragon would honestly be low on that list."

The laugh she earned from Mjoll made Yosa'Min smile brilliantly, the nord giving a shake of her head. "You're crazy my dear," she said with amusement, before starting along once more. The ground was hidden beneath snow, the powerful wind blasting it around them. Yosa'Min shivered, squinting through the cold that quickly limited her vision. The path suddenly vanished, Yosa'Min's heart quaking as she realized she couldn't see it through the wind, Mjoll just within arms reach. There were far too many treacherous slopes upon that mountain, the last thing Yosa'Min wanted was for them to stray from the path and fall to their deaths. "I think I see a marker!" Mjoll called, pointing to a pile of stones with a cloth flapping in the tumultuous flurry of snow distorting their sight.

Moving towards it, Yosa'Min gave a sigh of relief as the wind died back down, allowing her to see more steps though they turned downward following the curves of the mountain before rising back up again. "I do hope you were ready for an adventure," said Yosa'Min, trying to distract herself from the fact that they were growing ever closer to the mighty dragon.

"I would never turn down such a thing," replied Mjoll as they curved back down once more, Yosa'Min uncertain if she found the fact frustrating or not.

She glanced out from the Throat of the World, staring off into the southern portion of Skyrim. The forests and rivers seemed so small from up there, already having ascended to such a height that the world seemed to curve away from them, shrouded in snow and ice. They'd reached what would be the peaks of other mountains, Yosa'Min reaching out towards one in particular. She wished she could fly there, spread her wings and soar through the clouds until she perched upon its peak. The ghosts of her dreams ran down her spine, the memories of soaring through the clouds as an abomination swirling in her mind. The wind picked pack up, and Yosa'Min could see the landscape no more. Yosa'Min gave a small sigh before she dropped her arm.

Mjoll didn't say anything as they continued, watching Yosa'Min carefully as their path curved up and down over and over again, the stone steps hiding beneath snow or missing entirely from age upon them. "Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man; Together they taught Men to use the Voice; Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue," Yosa'Min read from the next emblem they came upon, speaking the name of the dragon was painful. The pair paused for a few minutes, dwelling upon the words and stretching their legs which ached.

"He sounds like an understanding soul," said Mjoll encouragingly, hoping to make that frown fade away. "If he was chosen by Kyne after all."

Yosa'Min blinked up at her, trying to believe her words. "I was often brash with him," she said, "he would tease me for being so impatient, but every second I was on this mountain training was a second I wasn't with Vastin. Even knowing he would be looked after by my friend Vifla, I just wanted to return to him… But I couldn't go back until Alduin was dealt with."

"Vifla?" Questioned Mjoll, arching a brow. She hadn't heard tale of her before.

"Oh… Have I never mentioned her to you?" Yosa'Min asked with a faint blush.

"I don't believe you have, no."

Yosa'Min averted her gaze as they walked, nearly tripping over a half broken step as they went. "When I was living in Falkreath I had only one friend, a bosmer named Vifla. She was in a similar situation to me, not living in the town itself, hunting to provide for her family. We met after a week of accidentally… and also not so accidentally, stealing each other's kills. She actually punched me first time we met face to face." Yosa'Min rubbed her jaw in memory, laughing bittersweet. "We were fast friends. We made a pact, that should something ever happen to the other, we would do what we could for their family. She had her parents still, as well as three siblings, and I had Vastin. So when I was captured by imperials when I accidentally crossed the border on a hunt, I knew she would take care of him. But still, that didn't stop me from wishing to return home any sooner."

"She sounds a good and loyal friend, have you visited her since you defeated Alduin?" Mjoll inquired, fumbling in the snow herself as the rocks began to rise around them, the path cutting between sheer stone with an overhang.

"No, she's vanished. The day my brother died in fact."

"Oh," softly said Mjoll, "I'm sorry to hear."

"I like to think she moved on to better things, but her family seemed to think otherwise. She could be dead for all I know." Yosa'Min turned her gaze heavenward, the darkness of the night filling the heavy clouds. "I send her family money, even if I can't bring myself to see them in person I still try to uphold that pact."

Mjoll gave her a small smile. "That's most honorable, perhaps one day she'll turn up and I'm certain she'll be most grateful you kept your word."

"I've broken far too many promises in my life… I'd like to keep a few at least." Yosa'Min wore a bitter smile, painful memories washing over her. Before she could slip too far into them however, there was a particular heavy noise and every sense within the redguard snapped together. It was a noise she had been hearing for three years, deep and powerful, a rush of strength and terror filling her. The redguard drew Auriel's Bow from her back, Mjoll instantly taking note and readied her warhammer. Backing up so that she could watch the other direction, the pair pressed against one another as Yosa'Min strug an ebony arrow.

Squinting into the darkness, as night had firmly claimed the sky and cast the snow clouded mountainside into black, Yosa'Min could just barely make out the massive shape that sped through the air. "There are many dragons who visit the Throat of the World," she said swiftly to Mjoll, "I don't know if this one is friendly or not." Her golden haired love gave a sharp nod, heart beating fast in her chest. "Get back to the overhang," ordered Yosa'Min, the pair quickly running towards the bit of cover. The dragon came around once more, banking close but Yosa'Min was unable to make out more details than that it was truly impressive in size.

Sliding under the rock ceiling and crunching discarded animal bones underfoot, the travelers awaited for it to show itself. The heavy flap of wings made them shiver with anticipation and the cold, the dragon no doubt searching for them. It passed by once more, when there was a wave of power through the air, a ripple almost and Yosa'Min could just barely hear the Thu'um.

" **LAAS YAH NIR!** "

"Well it knows where we are now," hissed Yosa'Min, recognizing the shout as the one to detect life even through stone and from a great distance.

Then the overhang gave a mighty groan, a crash of noise as snow and ice were displaced and the dragon landed above them. The talons upon its wings just barely reached around the stone, giving her idea of its size. Yosa'Min pointed her bow towards where she expected its scaly head to appear, Mjoll ready as she could be. Then it poked its head below, craning much like a bird and upside down. "Mal dovah!" Exclaimed the dragon, white scaled with hints of gold to his heavily spiked body, blue eyes staring at her with delight. "I did not expect to see you dii fahdon, my friend!"

Every bit of anxiety, every worried thought and uncertainty, sprung to the forefront of her mind, catching on her tongue as Yosa'Min slowly lowered the bow. She tried to speak, but nothing escaped her. "Are you Paarthurnax?" Questioned Mjoll for her, lowering her warhammer.

"Aye, that I am. Who are you goraan bron, young nord?" He replied, eyeing the golden nord carefully. Age was clear upon the dragon's face, one of the two spikes beneath his chin broken in half while several others were cut and marked. His horns were regal, sweeping back from his worn face, and bright blue eyes shined at them.

"Mjoll the Lioness, Yosa'Min's love."

The dragon jerked his head back in shock, before laughing, his voice so strong it shook the stone he was perched upon. "Is this why you have not visited me, mal dovah? You have found lokaal, love?" He eyed the frozen redguard. She shook in her boots, knuckles paling around the bow, fangs gritted with wide blue eyes. "Mal dovah, little one… are you alright?"

"Zu'u los ful krosis," uttered the woman at last, collapsing to her knees. "I'm so sorry Paarthurnax, I'm so sorry!" The dragon recoiled slightly, face contorting into a heavy frown. "The horrible, horrible things I said to you, I- I'm so sorry. Zu'u los ful krosis, lig frolaaz zey. Please!" She bowed before him, tears spattering into the snow, clutching Auriel's Bow tightly, Mjoll staring at her in shock. "Please forgive me!"

The old dragon found it difficult to climb down the overhang and fit himself beneath it, only getting his long neck and wide head within while the rest of him contorted between the rocks. He nuzzled the woman, head as long as she was tall, urging her upwards. "Mal dovah… Nii los bek, it is alright. I have forgiven you long ago."

Yosa'Min grabbed onto his snout, tears bubbling down her cheeks. "How? I was terrible…"

"You were angry, worried… the word escapes me but you were not alright. I understand why you said what you did… even if it hurt in the moment. Words strike as true as any blade," Paarthurnax replied, his breath puffing around Yosa'Min, warming the air between them. Mjoll watched with wide eyes, having never seen Yosa'Min interact with a dragon before, and even knowing she considered Paarthurnax a friend it was still quite a startling display of emotion.

"How can you forgive me after that?" Yosa'Min asked, mystified. She had hoped to find forgiveness, but for it to be so readily given rather than fought for was mind boggling. Never had she been so easily forgiven, save perhaps by her brother in the Soul Cairn. "I deserve to be hated for what I did."

Paarthurnax gave a deep sigh, and pressed his snout further against her, trying to comfort her. "I am old mal dovah, I have learned many lessons here on this most sacred mountain. Zok revak strunmah. Forgiveness was the hardest, yet I learned." He eyed her carefully, having to look at her with but only one eye. "You do not forgive yourself, frolaaz hinmaar. Faaz ahrk beyrovin naak hi. Pain and guilt consume you."

Yosa'Min gave a small nod, sniffling. "Yes."

Paarthurnax pulled back, Yosa'Min falling slightly after him at the unexpected retreat. He shuffled through the stones until he was in a more open area, standing upon the Seven Thousand Steps. "Come, we shall fly." He lowered his neck, flicking his long spiked tail to indicate they should climb onto his back.

"Are you sure?" Yosa'Min whispered, Mjoll helping her to her feet.

"I would not offer if I was not."

Yosa'Min trembled as she mounted the dragon, clutching one of the many spines that rose from his scales. Mjoll situated herself behind her love, holding onto her tightly. Both of their hearts beat frantically at what was about to happen. "Ready?" She asked Mjoll who nodded nervously. "We're ready," she informed Paarthurnax.

The ancient dragon spread his tattered wings, and with a mighty flap surged upwards from the ground. Mjoll shouted, her stomach rising to her throat and falling back down again as suddenly the world was very far below them. It took them but only moments to pierce the blanket of clouds, moisture clinging to their bodies as they sped through them, and then they were on the other side. Yosa'Min began to laugh, voice rising in tempo as they gained altitude. Mjoll was quick to join her, sheer panic and adrenaline fueled euphoria consuming the nord. They laughed until it hurt, and kept on, unable to stop.

Up there above the clouds the sky was beautiful, the air thin and crisp, a chill striking both women on the dragon's back. They stared in wonder at the twinkling stars in the expanse of dark, dancing as if they wanted to outshine the rest. The two moons felt so close that Yosa'Min found herself reaching out towards them. Mjoll looked down at the ragged blanket of grey, the clouds that hid Tamriel from view all save for the bald peak of snow laden stone that pierced the sky. The Throat of the World, a perfect sanctuary between the worlds of the sky and mortals below.

"It's so beautiful," whispered Mjoll, finding herself reaching towards the moons too, clutching Yosa'Min with one hand. Their breath puffed in the cold, but exhilaration kept their skin warm.

"There is no place better than the sky," said Paarthurnax, banking around the peak in a lazy circle. He was in no rush to land. "Stin do brudaat, free of burden."

For a few moments Yosa'Min could believe him, could let that pain building within her go. While she didn't understand it, she had been forgiven, and she could only be beyond grateful for it. Yosa'Min spread her arms, feeling the wind between her fingers as they circled the peak. Even from here she could feel the Time Wound, sense its power atop the world. It was a comfort, her mind growing light along with her heart, eyes closing in contentment.

"I wish I could stay up here," said Yosa'Min, remembering the flights she took as a hybrid abomination, slowly opening her eyes once more. Then her dreams crept upon her, and Yosa'Min joy was twisted. The stars contorted, forming constellations of monsters, Molag Bal stringing himself among the shining lights. He smiled at her, dark and sinister. Her vision blotted out until all she could see was the daedra of stars, sharp teeth of beautiful light. _You are mine._ Claws raked her, hot blood streaming down her face. She couldn't stop the scream that came from her, Yosa'Min lowering herself against Paarthurnax, closing her eyes and whispering to herself it couldn't be real.

 _It's not real!_

The next thing she knew they had landed, Mjoll holding her in her arms on the snowy peak with Paarthurnax curled around her. "Fos lost tol? What was that?" Questioned Paarthurnax, concern in his ancient voice. "Why do you bleed mal dovah?"

Yosa'Min blinked around her, breath coming in panicked puffy gasps, body trembling in Mjoll's grasp. Something dark laughed in the sky, forcing herself to look up at the stars. They were as they always were, constellations no different than before, no daedric princes changing them as they so pleased. "I… I think I'm losing my soul," she admitted, looking down at the snow below. It was red. "I think I'm going to die."


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

The healing potion Mjoll gave her tasted foul, Yosa'Min wretching instantly, bending over the snowy rocks and struggling to breathe. Mjoll patted her back, soothing her as she rode the wave of nausea. When she was finished, Yosa'Min leaned against white scales, Paarthurnax helping support her. It was quiet for some time, only the howling wind blocked by his large body and Yosa'Min's pained breathing filling the cold air. "What was that?" The dragon questioned at last, concern in his ancient voice.

"Did… did either of you see that?" She asked, gasping desperately. Her body burned despite the chill, waves of heat rising and falling like the sea. "In the stars?"

"No," Mjoll replied, barely keeping herself together. "What was it my dear? Molag Bal?"

Whimpering, Yosa'Min nodded. "He- he attacked me."

"Molag Bal?" Questioned Paarthurnax, raising his mighty head and staring up at the familiar constellations. Nothing was there that shouldn't have, brilliant lights shining as they always did. "Deyruv kulaan?"

"Yes, the daedric prince," agreed Yosa'Min, staring at the red in the snow. It was real, he'd truly harmed her there in the physical world. Her heart twisted, feeling claws wrap around it, squeezing her life out of her. She winced, clutching her chest, Mjoll giving her another potion she downed with desperation. The pain faded, barely, but her head leveled out enough to form a sentence. "It's a… long story."

"I have but only time, fun zey fos ails hi, tell me what ails you mal dovah."

Yosa'Min looked at him uncertainly, feeling all of those doubts come rushing back. Why was it so difficult to express her thoughts? Why did they always jumble up and cast themselves into Oblivion rather than be shared between herself and others? Mjoll frowned, fear in those golden eyes that made her feel guilty. _Come on Min, for once don't hurt her._ "I'm not too sure where to begin," she admitted, trying to buy herself time. Her mind was a disjointed mess, fear and pain swirling to cloud her thoughts.

"The last I saw you you were a spirited, driven woman," Paarthurnax rumbled, adjusting himself slightly. "After our disagreement I expected you to never return, vodein hin heyv, forsake your duty and allow Alduin to swallow the World. Yet you did not."

"Of course," she said, "I was terrified but if I had let him win we'd all be dead."

"Aye," Mjoll agreed, sitting besides her and trying to find warmth. It was cold upon that mountain top, but Paarthurnax shielded them from the worst of the wind as he curled around them. It was surprisingly comforting, the massive scaled monster of fire and fangs of legend acting more like a protective and overly large dog than anything. He pulled his tail a bit closer, wings tucked at his sides and head resting on a firm drift of snow, one blue eye watching Yosa'Min with clear concern. "We would've been swallowed whole if it wasn't for you."

"Yet when you defeated him, Alduin, you did not speak to me," Paarthurnax inquired, his voice was not filled with pain or anger as she expected but instead a yearning to understand, to piece together what she was enduring. "Hi lost led gaaf, you were like a ghost, tethered to Nirn by the thinnest of threads."

"He nearly killed me," Yosa'Min replied, eyes clouded with memory. The rush of wings beating in the air, the burn of claws piercing her skin, it swept up over her and she reveled for a moment that those memories had returned. "He carried me into the sky, held me in his claws and roared that I was a fool, before dropping me above the void."

"How did you survive?" Mjoll asked, taking one of Yosa'Min's hands in her own. She hadn't thought much of the actual battle Yosa'Min must have had with Alduin, simply assuming it to have been mighty and glorious, the kind of tale sung from rooftops and at celebrations. Not once had she considered it something else, something terrible.

"Well I suspected something of that sort was going to happen, I was facing a dragon after all, so I brought rope. I'd prepped an arrow with it tied, managed to shoot it off before I fell for eternity. Alduin wasn't too happy when I shot him with it though." A chill ran down her spine, reliving that terrible battle. "If only I had studied more, Paarthurnax, I might have stood a better chance. If I hadn't gotten aid from the Heroes of Old I wouldn't have returned. Alduin was right, I was a fool… I still am."

Paarthurnax listened, not replying for some time. His tail curled a bit closer, a means to hold her as if he was attempting to physically force the negative feelings from her. "It is the fool who never admits they were wrong. Meyus kah, foolish pride keeps them from growing. You do more than admit. Kogroso, repent, you beg for forgiveness when you need only ask."

"I suppose I do get a bit extreme in my apologies," uttered Yosa'Min.

"More than a bit my dear," gently said Mjoll.

Averting her gaze, she settled on the time wound. It felt like lifetimes ago that she stood in it and read the Elder Scroll. Then she realized it truly had been another life, another her, one she did not wish to return to. "I have so much to make up for," she agreed, "so many sins to atone. The person I was can never be again."

Paarthurnax grunted, shifting ever closer. "We are not judged by man, mer or dov," he grumbled sagely, "it is the Gods who pass judgement on our souls."

In a quiet voice, Yosa'Min asked, "What if I no longer have my soul?"

Instantly he shifted, raising his head so he might look at her closer. "What has happened?" He asked, voice thicker than normal. "What has Molag Bal done." Yosa'Min stared back at him, struggling to speak once more. "Mal dovah, tell me." She could resist no longer, his gaze too intense, the concern within them breaking her defenses.

And so she spoke. The redguard confessed everything, telling him of her brother's death and how it had sent her spiraling into a depression so great she'd nearly killed herself and perhaps even now had not conquered it. She told him of Vex and Mjoll, a story of two thieves and a lioness, filled with betrayal and heartbreak. Her words wavered with guilt when she admitted her wrongs, Mjoll listening quietly at her side with concern, hands clasped together, a pillar for her to support herself.

He did not remark when she told the tale of her vampirism, nothing but patient when she struggled with parts, Lydia's death coming out in between sobs. She found herself baring her fangs when she recalled Harkon and his plot to blot out the sun, but speaking of Serana and their friendship, how she'd truly helped her become a better person, made the hate slip away. She brimmed with pride as she told him about Iona and her journey, how she wished she could so easily change her life for the better.

The only reaction she got out of him besides soft pity was a low growl as she spoke of Molag Bal and his recent attacks upon her sanity. When at last she'd finished, catching him up on the last three years of her life, Paarthurnax nuzzled her tenderly. "You have suffered so much," he said in as much a whisper as he could, voice low and gravely. "I am sorry."

"I don't know what to do," she gasped out, voice raw from speaking for so long about things so painful. Fingers clutched his muzzle, Yosa'Min pressing her face against his snout. She'd stopped bleeding but the sting of his claws against her face was not easily forgotten. "If he can appear in the physical world and harm me- what hope do I have?"

"Yosa," Mjoll urged, "Siulon said it was possible to save you, but you cannot give up. If you give up all is lost."

"Listen to your beloved," said Paarthurnax. "If this Siulon believes you can be saved then we shall do it. You will not lose your way again mal dovah."

"But I don't understand," she gasped, "she said my soul is that of a dragon but look at me! I am weak and frail, bound to a human body. There is nothing of me near the glory and might of a dragon. If I truly do have a dragon's soul then I am a mockery."

"You are the strongest of all dov to have lived," said Paarthurnax firmly, "your body is mortal, this is true, but your spirit is not. Hi ag heziik, you burn brighter than all others." Mjoll tried to comfort Yosa'Min, heart racing at her outburst of emotions. It had been hard enough listening through the tale, but to see her so terrified and low made her heart fall into the snow. "No other dovah can consume the souls of another," Paarthurnax went on, "no others are capable of your power."

Sniffling, Yosa'Min pulled back just enough to wipe her reddened nose. "That doesn't make me any stronger. Unique, perhaps, but strong? I couldn't even defeat Alduin on my own, yet it was my supposed destiny." She met Mjoll's gaze, hands intertwining as Mjoll did her best to soothe her disturbed mind. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do or who I am," she confessed in a soft voice. "The last Dragonborn, a purposeless disgrace. I did not fulfill my duty, not truly, and since then I've only sewn chaos in my wake. I'm heralded a hero but I feel nothing like that."

She stared at their hands, trembling. No matter how many times she tried, she still couldn't quite move past it, move the boulder that blocked her way forward. Vastin had told her she was not a mistake in the Soul Cairn. Serana had been firm she was not a failure. Mjoll had reminded her every day since that there was still something for her, a reason to live, loving her with no restraint. Vex had given her purpose, but it was fleeting like spring breezes, pleasant and then gone. Lydia and Iona had tried their best to show her another way, to lift her from that hole she'd been buried within. She'd come to believe them, to let go of those thoughts that used to nag her so of being worthless, of how she had been a mistake. Yet even still, it felt as if Alduin truly had dropped her into that void, and only a fraction of the woman had returned through the portal.

"Laat Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax rumbled, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Why do you not believe in yourself?" She frowned, struggling to understand just what the dragon meant. "You have no faith in the path before you. You are blind, do not trust what you cannot see."

Yosa'Min gave a slow sigh, not terribly surprised by the question. It was one she often wondered herself. "I've been led astray so many times, I just want to know where I'm going for once. I thought I had a way to go, I thought I could save my brother, but I'm still in danger. Molag Bal is so close to claiming my soul, I can feel it." She looked at the Time Wound, watching the way it rippled and danced with power. Stars swirled in its ever moving form, twisting into eyes and fangs. Clenching her teeth, she buried her face in Mjoll's shoulder. _It's not real._ She told herself, trying to push him away.

"This Siulon, the expert, she claims Molag Bal uses your ignorance to claim you, yes?" She gave a nod. "Then you must learn who you are. You must find vahzah meyar, your true self."

"Laat Dovahkiin," she mumbled into Mjoll's shoulder, the golden haired nord wrapping her tightly in her embrace. It was warm there, comforting, Molag Bal's claws just a bit duller on her skull. "The Last Dragonborn."

Paarthurnax shifted once more, using his tail carefully to nudge her to look up at him. Ancient wisdom filled blue eyes, Yosa'Min's voice catching in her throat. "That is but only a title. Alduin himself held many, World Eater was but only one. Laat Dovahkiin is part of who you are, but it is not all you are mal dovah."

"I… I don't understand," Yosa'Min replied, Mjoll frowning besides her. "Who else could I be? There's an entire prophecy about me, Laat Dovahkiin."

"That is what we must find," he rumbled, shifting around them, no longer curling around the pair in a protective manner, letting the cold wind whip past them as he moved towards the word wall nearby. They watched as he climbed his perch, settling upon well worn rock and flicking his tail in an inviting manner. Yosa'Min, with Mjoll's aid, rose to her feet and crossed over. The chime of the Time Wound grew a bit quieter upon their approach, Yosa'Min frowning with memory. She'd spent many a night beneath the stone, listening to Paarthurnax's instructions and meditating upon his words.

After clearing it of snow, Yosa'Min and Mjoll settled upon a long frozen blanket. "Do you remember your lessons?" He inquired.

"Aye, they're burned into my memory," replied Yosa'Min, unsure of his trail of thought. How would meditating upon the Thu'um help her?

"Good," he grunted, lifting his maw and staring at the clouds for some time. Mjoll did her best not to fidget, nerves and dismay filling her. " **RO.** Balance," he said, the world reverberating as he used the Thu'um. "This you lack."

Yosa'Min chuckled softly. "Quite an understatement."

"But balance can be attained. You must bind yourself to the world around you, kos stin tul ko imaar, be free yet in control." Yosa'Min frowned with thought. She never was good at that, finding the medium between two extremes. She was always all in or not at all, shifting from one path to another, breaking with ease or standing firm like great cathedrals. The adventurous woman had no idea what 'moderation' meant.

" **RO.** " She repeated, the snow quaking around them. Mjoll's eyes widened, awe upon her painted face. It made Yosa'Min smile a bit. "I never quite understood why 'balance' was involved in a shout to offset my enemies..." Then she paused, crinkled her nose, and sighed. "I understand now."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She gave a firm nod, a slight flush to her cheeks. Mjoll arched a brow, not quite getting it but she didn't feel like egging Yosa'Min on. "What next?"

"I thought you remembered your lessons mal dovah," Paarthurnax chuckled, resting his head upon the stone wall. "Mjoll, this may take some time. I am sure my companions would welcome you in High Hrothgar."

"I'm fine here," she said, trying to suppress a yawn.

"Kitten, it's been a long day. If you need to sleep don't let me stop you," Yosa'Min said tenderly, "if memory serves right I'll be doing a lot of meditating. Which means quiet sitting in deep thought. A lot of it."

Debating for a bit longer, Mjoll finally caved when she gave a mighty yawn. It had been a long day of travel. "Alright, you win. Are you not tired?"

"The last thing I want right now is sleep," she said firmly. Even with Siulon's potions, she feared rest. Rising to her feet, she offered Mjoll her hand. "The way is a bit tricky, I'll guide you."

Paarthurnax gave an agreeing nod, stretching his wings for a moment and starting down from his perch. "No thanks," Mjoll said, "I'd rather walk with my love. There's a few things I would like to discuss with her." He pondered her for a moment before resettling on the smooth stone.

Walking hand in hand, the pair left the ancient dragon where he rested. They approached a sharp slope where the snow whirled about wildly, blocking the path but Yosa'Min knew well how to get past it.

" **LOK VAH KOOR!** "

A wave of air, gentle like a calm breeze rather than the raw power of Unrelenting Force, pushed the snowstorm aside, revealing the path to them. They began down it, mindful of rocks and ice. It wasn't long before Mjoll spoke, drawing Yosa'Min from her thoughts. "Do you think this will work?"

"It's better than nothing."

"I suppose."

"I have to have hope right?" She looked at Mjoll, a nervous glance filled with desperation.

"Aye," agreed Mjoll, squeezing her hand, "And for what it's worth… I think this will work too. I've never had much faith in soul searching, but it's nice to be wrong sometimes."

Yosa'Min broke into a smile, laughing with relief. "Even if it doesn't entirely… its a step in the right direction… right?"

Smiling back, Mjoll nodded. "There we are," she encouraged, "that's what I like to hear. We will get through this, you will be saved from Molag Bal, I promise." Yosa'Min smiled a bit wider. It made Mjoll's heart light. They would get through this. Mjoll tenderly pulled Yosa'Min into a kiss, making the redguard's heart flutter, Molag Bal seething and slipping away as all that filled her mind was her love. "One step at a time."

"One step at a time," agreed Yosa'Min, before she tugged on Mjoll's collar and their lips met once more.

* * *

The dragon was perched upon the Throat of the World, blue eyes watching the brewing storm. She growled in warning at the lightning that flashed through dark clouds, twisting Ike jagged claws. Nothing of Skyrim below was visible, only an abyss of clouds that rose up into the storm. Even from there she could feel the wind rip at crimson scales, the chill of the monstrous storm overwhelming.

She rose her head, challenging the tempest. "I know who you are," she said thickly, voice echoing through the sky. "What you are doing."

It convulsed, shifting into the familiar face. This time it was more than just a head, wild and elemental. Instead the daedric prince dominated the sky, a torso and arms manifesting in the angry clouds alongside his sinister face. He was more solid, as if the clouds had been molded into flesh, ever shifting with the wind yet retaining their ghastly form. Lightning arched through him, illuminating countless souls which clawed at the surface, desperate and trapped. The dragon focused on them, sensing a particular soul among the damned, an ache forming within her chest from the bond. Icy fangs were drawn in a smile as twisted as the rest of him. "Good," he purred, words slipping through the dream like thunder. "Then you know I will win. Why not give up now? I might just go easy on you."

"No," she said firmly, refusing to let fear or doubt in her voice. "I will not be claimed by you."

"Foolish wretch, I already did," he laughed, more thunder echoing his words. The storm grew around him, building like the trapped side of a dam, bubbling with raw power. "You simply ran away like a dog. Worry not, I shall reclaim you in time, and when I do you will learn the error of your ways. The master always wins."

The dragon spread her wings, growling in challenge. Molag Bal's fanged smile only grew. "I am no one's! I am Laat Dovahkiin, Qahnaarin of Alduin and Durnehviir, not your slave!"

"Oh?" He purred, darkness swirling between lightning, the wind shifting to blast cold wind into her face. Energy crackled in the air, tingling down her spine and filling her lungs with fire. "Is that who you are? Not Yosa'Min; a pathetic, lying, cheating, heartbreaking thief who cries over every failure, and my don't those failures stack up?"

"I'm no longer a thief," she hissed, fury filling her.

"Ah but you are still everything else I said?"

"Silence!" She roared, taking off into the storm. Molag Bal gave a dark laugh, meeting her with eager fangs. Fire spewed from her maw, blasting great scores along the constantly shifting clouds, doing little more than momentarially dispeling them. She tried clawing or biting but was met with the same results. Molag Bal cackled, and swiped his ice claws at the flying dragon, narrowly missing as she tucked and rolled. "That Yosa'Min is dead!"

"Are you so sure about that?" He sneered, slashing at her once more. He nicked one wing, sending her spiraling back before she managed to steady herself. "I think deep down inside we both know you cannot overcome your nature. You are scum! You don't deserve Sovngarde, you barely even deserve Coldharbour."

She came at him again, aiming for his eyes, only for the lightning to blast her away. Every attempt to wound the daedric prince failed, the dragon getting struck away again and again by lightning or solidified clouds. She felt weak, uncertain where to strike, if she even could harm him. Her breath came in ragged jolts, the menacing immortal being of Oblivion finding her amusing, fangs pulled into a constant grin. He was toying with her, playing with his food before he would devour her whole. She wanted to tear it from his ugly maw.

The dragon rushed forward, determination solidifying her actions into a razor edge. Molag Bal sneered, gathering lightning between tornadic fingers. More flashes illuminated his chest, drawing her eye to the souls that pleaded for freedom, pounding on twisting clouds. One of them screamed out to her, pulling upon their bond, guiding the dragon to where she should strike. The dragon dove, changing course from his eyes to his chest, headed right towards the crackling lightning and souls. Gathering every bit of her strength, the dragon shouted.

" **FUS RO DAH!** "

A concussive blast of air punctured the skin of Molag Bal, creating an opening just large enough for her to enter the tempest itself. Instantly more souls than she could count attached themselves to her, latching on water slicked crimson scales like leeches. One of them pulsated, an inferno in the dragon's chest the closer she struggled to her. "Serana!" She shouted, a soul as brilliant as sunlight reaching towards her. They were only a few feet apart, wriggling between the masses of captive souls.

Then massive claws wrapped around her, and Molag Bal ripped the dragon out, crushing her and breaking bones. "You frustrating gnat," he hissed out, she blasted his hands with fire, dissolving then just enough to limp free, flapping away to gather herself. "I will correct your disobedience with much joy."

"You will not turn me," she snarled, feeling blood drip down her scales, every inch of her on fire.

"Who said anything about that? Mortals, so presumptuous. You have rejected my gift once, you will not have it again."

There was a roar of thunder so great it deafened the dragon, lightning arcing out from Molag Bal's claws through her chest. It took her a moment to even register the pain, every nerve within her body screaming in unison. She gasped, wings holding her aloft for just a moment more, before she fell into the abyss of clouds below.

* * *

Yosa'Min awoke in the embrace of a dragon, Paarthurnax curled around her, keeping her warm there upon the Throat. Her skin burned, the sensation of blood running down her making her hot and sticky despite the cold. She touched her brow, and pulled back to see it bloodied. Grimacing, she cast a healing spell to mend her wounds.

Everything hurt, her neck burning with the all too familiar sting. Sweat dripped down with blood, many claw like lashes to her and a terrible ache in her chest. However, unlike every other times she awoke, Yosa'Min did not feel fear. Worry, certainly, but the unstoppable agony and terror Molag Bal had caused her before had lost its grasp. "Mal dovah?" Inquired Paarthurnax sleepily. "Are you alright?"

She patted his brow, smiling through the pain. "I will be. Sorry I dozed off."

"No, it is much alright. Perhaps you would like to rest properly with Mjoll?" He suggested, "you seem most tired." She gave a small nod, exhaustion clinging to her body as she climbed atop the dragon's back. She hadn't meant to fall asleep while meditating, forgetting to take the potion and giving Molag Bal the chance to invade her mind. Despite it however, and the agony that toppled over her body, she couldn't help but find a certain excitement in the dream.

She had harmed him. One way or another she had wounded the daedric prince. Her mind whirled with thoughts of what it could mean and Serana. It had to have been the bond, that presence she felt even after returning to mortality, that had brought her there. The brilliant soul could have been none other than her sire, an indescribably sensation filling her telling her what she already suspected. There was no mistaking the soul of her sire.

As Paarthurnax landed at High Hrothgar, it was but only a quick glide down the mountain after all, a pair of Greybeards swiftly approaching, she wondered if Serana was experiencing any of what she was. As much as she wished she could discuss it with Mjoll, she could hardly keep her eyes open. Barely remembering to draw the potion from her satchel, Yosa'Min assured she wouldn't have a second visit from Molag Bal. One fight was enough for a night, and she did not want to ruin a victory with an immediate defeat. She would hold onto this victory like a lighthouse to a lost ship, guiding her to safety, for surely Molag Bal would return with vengeance.

Rejuvenated, she was almost eager to face him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"As much as I realize I'm sitting atop the highest mountain in all of Tamriel," Yosa'Min drawled as she reclined against the Word Wall, "why must it be so cold?" Paarthurnax gave a rumbling laugh, the stone vibrating against her, and shook his head at her tenth complaint about the cold. "I don't understand why it's always so damn freezing here! It's spring, there should be a comfortable warmth everywhere!"

"We are up high, it is cold here," replied Paarthurnax, more amused by her antics than annoyed. If she needed to joke and complain to keep fear from consuming her he was just fine with it. "After four days I would think you had noticed mal dovah."

Four days they had spent there, Yosa'Min trying to find herself atop the Throat of the World. She hadn't fought Molag Bal since the first night, wanting to be prepared rather than simply throw herself at him as she had been before. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Serana, wondering how Molag Bal was using their bond to pursue her, and what exactly that even meant. A part of her feared for her former sire's life, dread that she too might be in danger filling her and distracting her rather often from what Paarthurnax was instructing. Yet what could she do, there atop the Throat, while Serana was halfway across Skyrim leading her clan?

"My brain froze two nights ago," she drawled, refocusing.

He smiled, fangs on clear display, and shook his head slowly. "Vos mii hind ni, let us hope not. I do not think him lokaal, your love, would appreciate such a thing."

Yosa'Min looked across the Throat to where Mjoll sat, reading a book and frowning every so often as she turned the pages. A frown of her own tugged at Yosa'Min's lips as she recognized the cover. It was Lydia's favorite. "No," she said softly, turning back to Paarthurnax, "I don't suppose she would."

"Are you ready to continue?" He inquired, tilting his head like a curious bird. Yosa'Min couldn't help but notice he was less forceful than her time training against Alduin, letting her break when she was at her wits end and regather her thoughts. Perhaps he had learned a few things from his last attempt at teaching her, or maybe she'd simply grown enough to notice and appreciate him more. Even with the urgency of stopping Molag Bal, he allowed her to pause and avoid losing her temper. She was quite appreciative of it, given she was moments from setting the mountain aflame.

"No," she grunted, rubbing her eyes, "give me a few more minutes please."

"Take as long as you need mal dovah, this is your journey not mine."

"Thank you," she replied, and stood up. Mjoll looked up from her book, a optimistic smile crossing her face. Walking over to her, Yosa'Min wrapped her arms around Mjoll's neck and kissed her brow, Mjoll easily pulling her onto her lap. "Everything alright my love?" Whispered Yosa'Min. "I hope you're not bored."

"I don't quite understand much of what he instructs," replied Mjoll as she kissed Yosa'Min, tenderly holding her close. Her brow furrowed, there was an edge to her voice. "But you seem to be struggling. I'm worried for you."

The smile Yosa'Min wore was one Mjoll had long learned meant she was trying to be brave, exhaustion weighing upon her shoulders yet refusing to show it. It was a tender lie, one meant to ease her mind, but seeing her try to hide her pain saddened Mjoll. "I'll get it," she reassured, "Paarthurnax is an excellent teacher, it's just… difficult to grasp at times."

"When you two begin speaking in nothing but dovahzul I can't follow along," Mjoll said softly, "but I can tell from your tone it is not easy. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Mal dovah understands the words," Paarthurnax cut in, "but not the meaning. Frolok dil kotin malom, look deep into the pond mal dovah, do not stare at the surface."

"Some of these things you speak of are as foreign to me as Morrowind." She squinted up at his intrusion, but did not directly remark upon it.

"The Thu'um," piped up Mjoll, frowning heavily with thought, "it is like magic, yes? It's not just a language, there's more to it than that."

"The Lioness understands more than you mal dovah," Paarthurnax teased softly, "The Thu'um is the extension of oneself, niist fen vorohah saadom, their will made reality. When you simply speak in our tongue, you treat as any other language. Yet when you wish to Shout, you focus, you are precise, and what comes forth is powerful and terrible."

"I suppose I do treat it like my spells and dagger..." Yosa'Min replied thoughtfully. "Something I have at my disposal but not always my first choice."

"Because you understand the power you wield and do not abuse it," he replied, "Yet, when we speak, I can feel a… disconnect. You must go deeper into the pool, diliik kotin lomok."

"You certainly like your metaphors don't you," chuckled Yosa'Min, before frowning with thought. "The words you have me meditating upon, you're guiding me towards something aren't you?"

The sagely dragon nodded once more. "You must realize the path before you yourself… but I will do my best to lead you towards it."

"And what is it exactly?"

"Your vahzah lund, true nature."

Yosa'Min grew quiet, blue eyes fixated upon the Word Wall. Panicked thoughts rushed through her mind, swirling like flurries of snow in a blizzard. Her fingers clutched Mjoll a bit tighter, breath catching in her throat. "My love?" Mjoll questioned nervously, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Are you alright?"

"I have no idea what that is," she gasped, voice swift, "I barely know what my purpose is Paarthurnax- how can I know my nature? If it is not Laat Dovahkiin, then what am I? Who am I?"

"Stiildus mal dovah, calm," he soothed, leaning his head down to nuzzle her. Cold scales pressed against the trembling woman, his breath warm on her neck. "This is what we will discover. There is a part of you that is undeniable. Something deep within that you have always known, though you may not accept it."

Yosa'Min stared up at him, swimming in blue eyes. "Your nature, Paarthurnax. Your name. It means something you are nothing like. Kyne herself chose you to teach men the Way of the Voice. Because of you the rebellion against Alduin so long ago was possible."

"Ah yes… Ambition. Overlord. Cruelty." Paarthurnax turned his gaze to the sky, something akin to sorrow upon his face for a moment. "It took centuries for me to overcome my evil nature, the way that I was created by Akatosh. Meditation, discipline, will; these are the things I forced upon myself. I was not alone when I betrayed Alduin, pogaan do dii zeymah straag, many of my brothers turned. I alone survived."

"Do you think I can do it? If I'm evil by nature then am I damned? I'm not as strong as you."

He smiled down at her, tender and kind. There was nothing within him that felt evil, no glimpse of a power hungry being within him. He radiated kindness and wisdom, something that she yearned for so desperately. "What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort? You are dov. This nature that is within all of us is within you as well, yet I know you have the mul, strength, to overcome."

Tears welled in Yosa'Min's eyes, the certainty he spoke with shaking her to the core. She began to weep, bending over herself, the pair comforting her. Yosa'Min gritted her fangs, and held onto the both of them, trying to work the mental puzzle pieces into place. She knew fractions of herself, her past and what she hoped for her future. She was a hunter, of animals, of dragons, of men and more. She was caught in an endless search, for a purpose, chasing it from one thing to the next as if it might be within reach by the time she was at the end of that particular quest, only for it to slip away once more and she have to chase it all over again.

She pushed away from the pair, Mjoll reaching after her while Paarthurnax easily let her go. Stopping just short of the Time Wound, Yosa'Min's mind swirled with memory. She could hear Alduin's terrible roar through it, her screams of fury and agony as she fought back. Paarthurnax bellowed, declaring that Alduin would fall, only to be mocked by the World Eater. Then she struck the blow that forced him to retreat, prey fleeing from the predator, running from death.

" **AH** ," she said, a soft reverb of the Thu'um to her voice, Mjoll blinking at the quake of power in her voice. Even knowing the devastation her love could wrought upon a battlefield, it was exhilarating to see that power first hand. "Hunter," she translated for the awed Mjoll.

"Yes," agreed Paarthurnax, "I can feel that is true to you."

She gave a small smile, encouraged, and searched further. There were many things she could say defined her, but to figure which one was more true to her nature rather than how she acted by choice came harder. Yet standing there, hoping the Time Wound might shed more answers in its rippling surface, nothing came. Everything felt forced, as if she were shoving a key too big into the lock. Eventually she gave an exasperated sigh, and fell back into a snow drift. It was late afternoon, the sun the only source of warmth upon the mountaintop.

"Yosa," called Mjoll, drawing her attention. She was still sitting besides Paarthurnax, uncertainty upon her beautiful face. "Forgive me for asking, but I feel it's important."

"Go ahead."

"Well… Throughout my time of knowing you, you've always seemed hesitant to being called Dovahkiin, yet now you feel as if it's your nature when it in truth is not. Not all of you at least. You told Siulon you hate that it's part of you, you flew into a rage when Aerin called you it. It's brought you trouble, I know, but… why do you hate it so much? Why do you hate yourself?"

A few moments passed of Yosa'Min staring at Mjoll, half trying to process what she'd even asked. The swell of conflicting emotions was nearly enough to incapacitate her, leave her there in the snow turned to a statue. "Because it's a lie," she finally managed, voice cracking, "because it sings promise of a glorious hero, of someone strong enough to take on Alduin by themselves, who can heal the bleeding wound upon the land, but there's only me." Hands balled into fists, nails digging into her palms painfully. "Because it has brought me nothing but pain. So much is expected of me but I never meet those expectations. I always fall short."

"You've never cared about what others' think beyond your true friends," said Mjoll, settling in the snow next to her. She took one of her hands, intertwining their fingers. Yosa'Min closed her eyes for a moment, needing the tender touch of her love to soothe her. She was a lighthouse, and Yosa'Min a ship lost at sea.

"But I still feel it, that sense of failure. When I returned from killing Alduin there was a feast in Whiterun. The Jarl refused to let me leave, this being before I returned to Falkreath. All throughout it I was being praised, heralded a hero, toasts in my honor, gifts granted to me, a true heroes welcome." She looked into beautiful golden eyes, taking in how desperate Mjoll was to help her. It made her heart quake, the overwhelming love Mjoll felt for her, tremendous and terrifying. "All I could think was how much of a farce it was. I had been the one to strike the final blow, the one to kill him, yet I am not the one who defeated him. The Heroes of Old are."

"You say this," countered Mjoll, "yet they were not the ones who rose to defeat him. They came because you called upon their aid didn't they? They wouldn't have faced him without you."

"Perhaps but that's only because they couldn't finish him. That's all I was good for, the final strike. I might as well have been useless otherwise."

Mjoll sighed, averting her gaze. It was clear to Yosa'Min she was struggling with this too, hoping to help but all she knew was soft words or how to fight. This unfortunately wasn't a problem Mjoll could simply fend off with her strength. Then suddenly she gasped, lurching upwards and dragging Yosa'Min along with her. "The Heroes of Old!"

"Yes?" Yosa'Min questioned nervously, shoulder hurting slightly from the sharp pull.

"You can speak with them, can you not? You mentioned it before, when we first visited the College."

Blue eyes widened, a coldness gripping Yosa'Min to her core. "I know the shout, yes."

"Speak with them, or at least one of them," Mjoll went on, "They might hold very different opinions of how that fight went, and only you lot can decide. Perhaps you're just being hard on yourself like you tend to."

"Mjoll."

"I know it's scary but, they are your allies," Mjoll said swiftly, trying to soothe her. "If you spoke with them I think it could set your mind at ease."

"It is a good idea," rumbled Paarthurnax from his perch.

She closed her eyes, trying to summon the strength. Mjoll squeezed her hand. "Okay. If you think it will help I will give it a try. But I'd like to do it alone. Just me and them."

Mjoll hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Aye."

"Whatever you need," Mjoll relented.

Paarthurnax made a thoughtful noise, before climbing down from the word wall. "Mjoll, come, we shall grant her privacy."

Golden eyes widened. "You want me to ride you?"

"Nii los tahriik, it is safe," he replied, flicking his tail enticingly. Looking back at Yosa'Min, Mjoll earned a chuckle from the redguard. "We shall fly among the clouds. Mal dovah, call for me when you are finished."

She nodded in understanding, a part of her beyond grateful for how kind he was to Mjoll. Not having to worry about them getting along was a massive ease upon her conscious. "Go on," encouraged Yosa'Min, "I'll be here."

Mjoll kissed Yosa'Min briskly. "Good luck," said Mjoll as she mounted the dragon, hands shaky as she secured herself against one of the many spikes upon his body. "Good thing I'm not scared of heights." Yosa'Min heard her whisper, Paarthurnax bellowing in laughter before taking off. The rush of air sent a flurry of snow into her face, Yosa'Min shielding her eyes until it had settled. She watched them grow smaller upon the horizon, headed north across the sky. It suddenly felt frozen there upon the mountain alone, her comfort and support leaving her.

Several minutes passed of her sitting there, thinking just who she should speak with as the shout would summon only one among the three. She could only vaguely remember what each of them were like, a woman and two men. She mulled upon her options, before sighing, realizing just which one she should talk to. Every part of was afraid, terrified of just what he might have to say, but Mjoll was right. She needed to face them and this was the only way.

Turning to the word wall, Yosa'Min stood up and tried to summon her courage. " **HUN KAAL ZOOR!** " Tamriel shuddered as the spectral appeared before her, shimmering blue light manifesting into the shape of a tall bearded nord man in ancient nordic steel armor with scars across his face leaving him blind in one eye. _Harkon One-Eye,_ she recalled, cringing slightly at his name. _Couldn't it have been anything else?_

He drew a heavy battle axe from his back, scanning the mountaintop. "It is an honor to fight alongside you once more Yosa'Min! What foe are we to face in battle?" He frowned, seeing nothing but snow. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"No," she replied, "I was hoping to speak with you about a personal matter."

He laughed, sheathing his weapon. "Perhaps you should have summoned Felldir, I am not known for my words."

"I wanted to speak to you specifically." He gave a further disbelieving chuckle. "I need your honest opinion as a warrior. As a hero."

The man arched a brow and crossed his arms, amused yet intrigued. "Alright. What do you wish to know?"

The knowledge that her shout would only last so long was all that brought the words quickly, was all that made her speak. Her chest felt as heavy as a crate of stones tossed into the sea. "When we fought Alduin, did you truly think me an aid? Or was I simply in the way?"

"We could not have defeated Alduin without you."

"But that's just for the killing blow. I finished him but I feel as if I was useless otherwise."

"Yosa'Min," he replied, frowning, "you are an archer. Archers do not throw themselves into the fray like those with swords and axes. You fought as you should have and you fought well. Alduin… he was a terrible beast we could not defeat, nor did we dare try again for we feared the outcome. Even when you arrived, we were afraid. You inspired us, gave us the will to fight that dreaded battle once more. We defeated him, together the four of us, because of you. We couldn't have won without you."

"Only because of who I am," she said bitterly.

Harkon shook his head. "That's not how I remember it." She met his one-eyed gaze, a certainty within it that froze her in place. "I remember laying on the ground, clutching my gut, thinking I would die a second time. Felldir against the rocks, Gormlaith trying to help him. Then there was you, falling from the sky above the abyss, shooting that scaled bastard right in the eye. When I first saw you, I'll admit I was underwhelmed."

"Most are," she scoffed.

"Aye, and that's where you get them isn't it? Take the whole world by surprise. Certainly surprised me to see you climb up that damn rope, a dragon trying to shake you off the whole time, and stab him in the other eye with a dagger. The way you held on, the determination that possessed you as Alduin did all he could to kill you, it is not one I have seen before. You have fire within you Yosa'Min, never forget that. We would have lost that battle if not for you."

She gave a small smile, tucking her head. Hearing those words from him, someone who would have no need for lying, set her mind at ease and she exhaled softly. "Thank you."

"If you are worried about being a hero," he went on, "I believe you are lying to yourself about being unworthy."

"How is that? One fight does not make me a hero."

"There is a woman here, a new arrival in Sovngarde, who knows you well. She sings your glory and how she knows one day you will meet again."

The world seemed to grow still, everything quiet and motionless. Harkon One-Eye smiled at her, a kindness upon his face she was unaccustomed to seeing upon a stranger. The pain she had tried to move past resurged with such fervor she nearly fell to her knees. There could only be one woman he spoke of. "Lydia?" She asked softly.

"Aye, that is her name." He confirmed, scratching his beard. "I quite like her, she has a spirit to her, lightens the Hall of Valor like no other." His one good eye settled upon her, smiling at the woman who trembled. "I must leave you now, however I give you this gift. For inspiring us to face Alduin, for reminding us who we are." He held a hand out to her, a light swirling between his fingers before wrapping around his body. "Summon me with the Thu'um once more, and she will appear. Know that this is something I may only do once, but it will last as long as she desires."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I know how she died," he added, starting to fade from the feet up. "She chose well." Before Yosa'Min could say a thing he was gone, whisking away like snow in the wind.

Her mind swirled like a blizzard, one thing after the next crashing against her skull. She gripped herself, trying to calm, trying to find some land to find refuge upon in the raging sea of her mind. "Lydia made it," she whispered, "she actually made it." She needed proof. Raising her head, Yosa'Min summoned forth her Thu'um once more, impulsive and desperate. " **HUN KAAL ZOOR!** "

Another shape manifested from the air, fluttering for a few moments before solidifying into the cerulean form of a nord woman. Tears welled in blue eyes, Yosa'Min crashing to her knees. Hazel eyes fell upon her, tender and joyful. "Hello Yosa'Min."

"Lydia!" She cried, hands slamming into the snow, bowing before her. "By the Gods Lydia it's truly you!"

The spectral form of Lydia approached, no footprints left within the snow or sound produced by her walking. "It's me." Shimmering fingers cupped her chin, forcing Yosa'Min to look up at her as Lydia settled upon her knees. She was radiant, glowing from within and partially translucent. "I've missed you my friend."

Crying out incomprehensibly, Yosa'Min pulled Lydia into a tight embrace, her ghostly body solid to the touch. "Divines I'm so sorry Lydia. You'd be alive if it wasn't for me! If I had heard Isran coming I-"

"It's not your fault," Lydia cut her short, holding her just as tight. "I chose to sacrifice myself, you didn't make me. It was my choice." Her grip tightened some, Yosa'Min weeping louder. "And I'd do it again if I could."

"Lydia…"

"Yosa'Min you were my thane. I made an oath to you and I was going to keep it. I did keep it."

"I know but I just- why? Why did you have to die?" Asked Yosa'Min brokenly. "Of everyone I know you deserved to find happiness the most."

Lydia pulled back enough to look into her face, brushing her black hair back. It was still fairly short, though it'd grown long enough for her to pull the bangs to the side, no longer looking as if she'd cut it all off in a mental breakdown. Lydia hummed, letting her fingers linger a bit longer, then smiled ruefully. "Oh Yosa… I was happy."

Yosa'Min blinked, sniffling loudly. "How? I nearly killed you Lydia. Gods I'm so sorry for that!" She gritted fangs, Lydia's eyes settled upon them, lips drawing into a thin line. The disappointment filling hazel orbs, the only part of Lydia not blue in hue, made heat flash through her, and she lowered her gaze. "I got cured but… it lingers," she explained, not wanting Lydia to think her death was for nothing. "Falion isn't certain I'll ever be fully the same, given how close it was before I was fully turned."

Lydia ran her hand down Yosa'Min's cheek, touching her scar which grew warm beneath her palm, and then eyed the redguard closely. The smile returned. "I'm proud of you."

She looked back at her, stunned. "How?"

"Yosa, you've grown so much. You're not the drunkard I loathed serving in Whiterun anymore. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, that you were injured yourself and weren't in control. I forgave you while I was still alive, and that hasn't changed. Now here you are, cured, and…" She trailed off, looking around the mountaintop. "Are we… This is the Throat of the World Yosa." Alarm rippled down her ghostly body, visibly wavering her form. "Yosa'Min you've finally returned to Paarthurnax?" The redguard nodded softly. "Yosa'Min! That's wonderful! I take it it's gone well so far?"

"With Paarthurnax, splendidly. He gets along well with Mjoll even."

"Mjoll?" Lydia inquired, a curl to her words that made Yosa'Min blush. "Oh yes I'm very proud of you Yosa. You two are together now?"

"Aye… We have been since I was cured."

Lydia beamed, unwrapping her arms and settling atop the snow across from her. It felt strange to see her hover there almost, a true visitor within the realm rather than belonging to it. Sadness filled Yosa'Min's heart at the thought. Lydia seemed to notice, tapping her chin once more and making Yosa'Min look back at her. "Hey… It's okay to be sad. I'm not asking you to pretend like you're not. But don't get stuck on me okay?"

"You know how I bad I am with grief." She tried to laugh but it fell flat.

"Yes I do. I spent two years learning just how bad you are about it," she teased softly, before adding more earnestly, "Please Yosa'Min, don't spend another two years on me."

Nodding softly, Yosa'Min reached out and took Lydia's hand. "I won't. I'm… I'm doing much better this time. I'm not without a purpose like before, and with Mjoll… well it helps."

"Good!"

"It's just. It's hard."

"I know. When my family passed on I felt lost for some time as well. But eventually you find the reason to live again, a purpose to drive yourself towards."

"What was yours?" Yosa'Min asked, half already knowing the answer. Lydia arched a brow, even in death still full of wit. "Me?"

"But of course. You were my everything Yosa," she said, a twinge of sadness colored her voice. "Well, you were until…"

"Iona."

Lowering her head, Lydia sighed. "That's my only regret Yosa. That I left her, so soon into our relationship too. I wanted to have a life with her, I truly did, but… My oath came first. I hope she understands." Fear laced her words, swimming in pain.

"She does," firmly said Yosa'Min. "She's still trying to accept you're gone but I know she understands. It hurts, it hurts so very much, but she knows. It was her oath too."

Lydia frowned. "Was?"

"Oh, uh, yes. Was. I released her from her oath when I was cured. The woman I was died, she no longer exists. It didn't seem right to keep her bound as my housecarl."

Lydia's frown deepened, thoughtful rather than angry. "What's become of her? Does she still live with you? I can't imagine sleeping in the same room we once shared is making it easy for her."

"Actually she moved out. She's going to the College now. I saw her a few days ago, she seemed… happy." Yosa'Min forced a smile, wavering for a few moments. "She's learning so much, soon she'll be focusing on restoration magic even! I know she'll make you proud!"

"Restoration…" Lydia murmured, looking down. It was easy to guess why she might take on such a school of magic, not wanting to lose another thinking her magic might save them. Hands balled into fists, tension in her jaw, before Lydia relaxed with a sigh. "I'm already proud of her. Please, tell her that next you see her. She hid that side of herself for so long, I feared she might push it away after my death. Blame herself for it. I'm glad she's found a purpose once more." Hazel eyes flickered to Yosa'Min. "Have you?"

The strained laugh that escaped Yosa'Min shocked even herself. "I get close and then something else just gets in the way. I'm trying incredibly hard, to find my brother's lost soul. He's somewhere in the Soul Cairn, trapped, and I have to save him. Mjoll is helping me search but… Lydia I'm in danger all over again."

"You're always in danger," Lydia snickered, "what this time?"

"Molag Bal seeks my soul. He's furiousI escaped him, and he's dangerously close to reclaiming me."

In a brief moment the playfulness left Lydia's face, a deadly sort of seriousness taking hold. "Yosa."

"I know."

"How do we stop him?"

Yosa'Min looked at her, eyes wide. "No! There is no more we!" She said with more force than she intended, Lydia shrinking back. "You have given me your everything! You deserve peace in Sovngarde not to worry about me. I am not alone, I have Mjoll, Paarthurnax, the Greybeards, even Siulon and Iona helping me, but you are done. I cannot and will not ask any more of you."

Lydia grimaced, lingering for a few moments before she sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. I just… I care about you so much Yosa, you're like family to me." She met the mortal's gaze, nervous yet certain, believing in her words yet wary of how they might be received. "You're my sister."

Tears welled in Yosa'Min's eyes once more as she gave a hearty nod. "You're my sister too." She pulled Lydia into another embrace, her ghostly form warm to the touch. "I love you Lydia."

"I love you too."

"Promise me you won't worry."

"You know I can't."

"Okay… just- trust me when I say everything will be alright."

Lydia pulled back, frowning. "You're lying. You don't really think that, or at least not as much as you should."

"Lying is what I do best isn't it?" Jested Yosa'Min, before something clicked. She grew stiff, Lydia's frown deepening, as the realization dawned the redguard. Lying was the woman's default almost, finding it far easier to given an easy lie than a hard truth, opting to spare the feelings of others or herself rather than break them with an unbearable truth. So many times over her friends had her accused her of doing it, Serana annoyingly good at detecting when the redguard fibbed.

It came to her as easy as breathing, falsities to either manipulate or maneuver. It got her into almost as much trouble as it had gotten her out, an ebb and flow of selfish chaos that guided her life. It was so difficult to accept, to admit it was part of her nature, yet it was an undeniable truth as ironic to the discovery as that was. " **NOK!"**

A wave of light rippled down Yosa'Min's spine, shimmering across the snow and she sighed in admission. "Nok ah, lie hunter." It felt right in that order, the name revealing itself to her. She smiled at a thoroughly bewildered Lydia. "Thanks, looks like you helped after all."

"I'll never quite understand you Yosa," mused Lydia, "but I'm happy to have assisted in some form." She turned her head, reminiscing in memories as she gazed out over Tamriel. "I've missed you Yosa."

Yosa'Min gave a rueful smile. "I've missed you too."

"Promise me something, please." She looked back at her, intensity burning within her ghostly eyes. "Promise me you wont give up. No matter how hard it gets, don't give up." She took hold of Yosa'Min's hand, clutching tightly. "Please."

She wanted to lie, to smile in a manner that made it easier to promise something that was beyond difficult for herself, something she always struggled with. She was surrounded by people so full of determination, who refused to give up even in the face of certain death. She admired them for that. "I promise," Yosa'Min vowed truthfully, squeezing Lydia's hand. "I won't give up."

Lydia smiled. "Alright then."

There was a shift in the air, contentment and peace nestled upon them. They watched the horizon, the clouds slowly ambling past, patches of it empty and revealing Skyrim down below. Half an hour passed between them like that, silent yet happy, enjoying a sight they never would together again. Eventually however, it had to come to an end, Lydia sighing tenderly. "I need to go now Yosa."

Tucking her head, Yosa'Min sighed as well. "I understand."

"Please tell Iona I'm sorry, and that I love her."

"Of course."

"Thank you Yosa." They embraced, putting everything they had in the touch. "Goodbye my sister," Lydia whispered, body growing translucent. "I'll see you in Sovngarde."

"Goodbye sis…" Whispered back Yosa'Min, Lydia fading from away, the weight steadily vanishing until there was nothing left.

She was alone again.

Yosa'Min hunched over, sobbing in agony, letting the wave of grief consume her one last time. It slammed into her with the weight of the whole world, pushing everything she had into the mountain below. She couldn't breathe, could barely think, drowning in the grief, cast down into the Sea of Ghosts. Her skin burned, the touch of Lydia's hands upon her filling her with strength. She could feel Mjoll's arms wrapped around her, Iona's hand upon her shoulder. _I'm not alone._ For once she fought through it, clawing her way out, struggling and screaming every inch of the way until at last she broke free. _The time for crying is over._

Inhaling the cold air, Yosa'Min straightened up and wiped her eyes. She was done wallowing, she was done aching, she was going to leave this mountain stronger than ever. She was going to find her nature and defeat Molag Bal. Finally moving past that pain, the weight that would bury her into the dirt, she gathered herself and faced the sky. Thu'um upon her lips, Yosa'Min called forth for Paarthurnax. She was ready.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

"And then!" Yosa'Min cried, slamming her tankard into the table, cheeks slightly flushed with alcohol. The others listened with rapt attention, eager smiles upon the Greybeards' faces. Mjoll giggled softly at her antics, just as invested in the tale Yosa'Min told. "I walked right up to that hagraven and demanded the ring back! As if I'd ever wed such a creature!"

"You never mentioned you've been engaged before," teased Mjoll.

"Kitten I would hardly call that an engagement, especially given my lack of sobriety in the whole affair," snickered Yosa'Min, leaning towards her love and kissing her cheek.

Mjoll chuckled thickly. "I suppose that does give you some leeway."

Yosa'Min winked, swiftly falling back into the rhythm of storytelling. Mjoll admired her as she recounted the fight with Moira, a hagraven she'd drunkenly proposed to with a ring loaned to her from Ysolda in Whiterun. There was a lightness to Yosa'Min that Mjoll had never seen before, not even in their early days of knowing one another. She radiated a warmth that Mjoll had never felt from her before, intoxicating and splendid.

After Paarthurnax and she had landed on the Throat upon Yosa'Min's summons she had instantly noticed a change within Yosa'Min. She stood straighter even with tears drying upon her cheeks, the weight that had always been crushing her at long last cast aside. Mjoll had wept when Yosa'Min told her of her talk with Lydia, unable to contain the joy and relief such knowledge had brought her. Yosa'Min's discovery of another piece of her true nature had only added to her jubilation.

Even if Yosa'Min hadn't been able to come to the conclusion of the final piece, despite Paarthurnax and Mjoll's best efforts, there was not the same fear in the air. The darkness that clung to Yosa'Min for as long as Mjoll had known her was gone, dissolved like looming storm clouds at last revealing the sun. So when they'd retired to High Hrothgar to spend the night, it having been quite the productive day already, Mjoll had already been thinking of ways to celebrate Yosa'Min's breakthrough which started first with a feast.

"It took hours to fight through all the mages occupying Morvunskar, but eventually I found a strange magical portal," Yosa'Min was saying when Mjoll tuned back into her tale, "which took me to somewhere in Oblivion. It was unlike any others I've been to. It was pleasant, a misty little grove with tables and lanterns and even party guests! It really did look like a wedding was to be had and I got rather worried when I saw Sanguine by an alter!"

"What daedra do you not have connections with?" Teased Mjoll.

"He just makes three," Yosa'Min said as casually as possible, waving a hand. There was a whisper in her ear, Yosa'Min looking down the hall after it but no one had spoken. She tried to play it off with a laugh. "Sanguine, who was really Sam, you remember the man I drank with right? Well, he told me it was nothing more than a fun evening that became a night he wouldn't soon forget."

"Unlike you who forgot all of it."

" _Most_ all of it! I remember giving a giant a goat… for some reason."

The Greybeards all wore amused smiles, the four bearded men listening to the two banter about the entertaining story. Arngeir, the only among them that spoke, sipped from his wine as Yosa'Min continued. "So he gave me the Sanguine Rose, a staff shaped, of course, like a rose, and told me to have fun! I was still so confused that when I awoke in the inn I first drank with him I was half convinced it had all been a drunken dream, only I was holding that staff."

"So what did you do with it?" Arngeir questioned. Mjoll arched a brow expectantly.

"Well…" Yosa'Min trailed off, dimming some. There was a soft burning in her chest, Yosa'Min idly rubbing her collarbone as she thought. "I am not much of a staff user, and I was a bit afraid of summoning a dremora with it, so I hid it away in my home in Whiterun. I'm not sure it's still there, given how Breezehome was destroyed by Orthjolf."

Mjoll gave a tender frown, reaching over and taking Yosa'Min's hand in her own. "Perhaps it's for the best," she said, "who knows what kind of chaos you'd have gotten up to with it."

A small laugh escaped Yosa'Min, squeezing Mjoll's hand as she settled back down in her seat. "Perhaps," she agreed, refreshing herself with a long sip of the wine in her cup. The Greybeards, despite their modesty, knew how to throw a feast. A part of her wondered if it was only because of who she was, Dragonborn, that caused them to meet her with such kindness, or if they truly cared for her. She'd spent less time with them than Paarthurnax during her Alduin training days, and now she only came down when she was done meditating for the day. They were patient and generous, something she found strange but appreciated nonetheless.

"Let us hope you do not have another angry daedra coming after you then," Arngeir mused, "one is more than enough I'd say."

"Aye," Yosa'Min agreed, raising her tankard in a cheer, the others joining in. "To one angry daedra!" They laughed, minus the three who no longer spoke, but smiles were all around as they drank. She should have been afraid, worrying about Molag Bal and what he might do now that she was drawing ever closer to knowing her true self, but for a few hours Yosa'Min didn't care. She'd made a phenomenal amount of progress, and for once she was going to enjoy it, refusing to let Molag Bal spoil the evening for her.

The burning sensation grew worse with the drink, Yosa'Min frowning in discomfort. Mjoll's brow knit together. "Everything alright my love?"

"I… yes," Yosa'Min lied reassuringly. Mjoll snorted, making Yosa'Min curse that she had learned to read her so well yet also tingle with excitement. It felt good to be understood. "Okay maybe not… entirely. I'm not sure, my chest just feels strange."

"Perhaps it's all the wine," Mjoll suggested. "You've had a long and emotional day, maybe we should retire for the night?"

"And ruin all the fun?"

"If you must rest," cut in Arngeir, "by all means Yosa'Min. Do not stay up on our account."

Yosa'Min gave a sigh, rubbing her chest as the burning became painful. "Alright that might be a good idea," she conceded. "It has been an eventful day after all."

"That it has," Mjoll replied, helping her rise to her feet. "Thank you for the most wonderful meal," she added to the Greybeards.

"You can thank Borri for that," Arngeir said, "he is a most excellent cook." The Greybeard in question straightened up, giving a knowing smile. "Worry not about cleaning up, we shall take care of the mess."

"Thank you," Yosa'Min said sincerely, struggling to keep a straight face. The fire was spreading throughout her body, the fear she'd not felt resurging. "What if it's Molag Bal?" She questioned in a frantic whisper, Mjoll stiffening besides her. Before she could say another word the pain twisted violently, a gasp of agony escaping her as her knees gave out beneath her. Her vision faded into black, hot claws scraping down her skull and back, a weight crushing into her chest with the force of all of Nirn.

"Yosa!"

Sweat broke out across her brow, breathing coming in panicked bursts. The Greybeards began to crowd around her while Mjoll held her in her arms, shaking her as Yosa'Min's eyes grew cloudy. The air grew cold, a suffocating weight descending upon the mortals, otherworldly and terrible. A light shimmered around the redguard's body, making dark skin glow white, rising up from her like morning fog. It twisted and wrent itself from her body, rising with a pained groan, wet and slow as if it were emerging from a deep bog. A spectral of Yosa'Min manifested in the space between the Lioness and her unconscious love, features gaunt and vampiric. It laughed, voice echoing off the stone walls of High Hrothgar, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

The spectral leaned closer to Mjoll, caressing her cheek, whispering in a voice that was foreign and otherworldly. The touch of it burned, Mjoll's cry of pain catching in her throat, unable to move. Lightning raced through her veins, muscles seizing, jaw taut with silent agony. Fangs brushed her neck, the woman and Greybeards frozen in place by the magical presence. It was like a snake that coiled around her heart, making it painful to even think about fleeing the entity's side. Mjoll felt its fangs prick against her flesh, drawing blood, claws sliding down her cheek. "Yosa?" She managed at last in a whimper.

It drew back, malice in starry eyes, and licked its lips in anticipation.

Then a bolt of lightning struck the spectral and zapped against the stone wall on the other side, exploding the magical entity with a thunderous scream. Mjoll fell back, blinking in awe as she regained control of herself, Yosa'Min falling onto the hard stone floor. Whirling around to look down the hall, Mjoll's jaw fell open at the woman who stood there in a cloak with blazing sunset eyes, lightning magic sparking around her hands for a few moments before fizzling out.

"Serana!"

The vampire lowered her hood and crossed over to them, Yosa'Min stirring on the ground. The Greybeards stared at the new arrival, ready to defend their home if need be but they recognized her name from stories Yosa'Min had shared. "Is she alright?" Serana asked, dropping to her knees and lifting Yosa'Min's head onto her lap, desperately searching her for any wounds but she seemed unharmed. "What was that?"

"I- I don't know," Mjoll said shakily, still trying to process what was going on. "How are you here?"

"I felt something was wrong," Serana said rapidly, the color returning to Yosa'Min as she inspected her, clouds clearing from blue eyes that flickered open. "I've been having nightmares and I'd feel Yosa'Min on the other end of the bond, suffering. I've been looking for you for almost a week now!"

"Serana…?" Yosa'Min croaked, frowning as one hand reached up to touch the beautiful brunette nord's face. "Am I still dreaming?"

Uttering in relief, Serana gave a hearty shake of her head. "No Yosa, you're awake now."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely…" Serana whispered, lowering her head with a tender smile, before she snapped back up at Mjoll. "What in Oblivion is wrong with her?"

For a moment Mjoll might have thought Serana was still Yosa'Min's sire, recalling the way Serana would jump to Yosa'Min's defense, setting her ill-at-ease. She trusted she would never hurt Yosa'Min, and she'd proven herself not to be a monster after the battle against Harkon, but there was an air about the vampire lord that set Mjoll on edge. Power radiated from her, creeping down her spine as it whispered how Serana could kill her in a second. She was afraid of her.

"Mjoll," Serana said briskly, fear coloring her words. "What's going on?" It seemed there were things the vampire lord feared as well.

Blinking, Mjoll straightened up and cleared her throat. "It's Molag Bal," she explained, Yosa'Min shifting up to sit between them, shaking her head slowly as if it were filled with cobwebs. "He's after her soul."

Sunset eyes widened, the sharp breath she inhaled the only noise between them for a few moments. Serana hissed, "So my dreams were true."

"Whatever you've been seeing, it's all real," Yosa'Min replied, swaying slightly, rubbing the back of her head. "Did you drop me?" She accused Mjoll quietly, getting an embarrassed nod in return. She gave a small huff, and cast a healing spell upon herself.

"He's almost got you then," Serana said, voice quivering. "He's been tormenting me through our bond, saying I never should have allowed you to escape him, that you're just damned to an even worse fate now."

Brow furrowing, Yosa'Min stared at Serana. "Our bond…"

"Yes?"

"I've felt you in the dreams too, only recently did I know it was you among the souls but there is no possibility it wasn't you." Yosa'Min was shaking, Mjoll intertwined their fingers, frowning deeply. "He doesn't want to turn me," Yosa'Min went on, "he told me so himself. I rejected his _gift_ and he won't turn me again. That is if he's to be believed, but I do know he wants my soul. He…" her voice hitched, the fear she'd refused to feel earlier surging forward to consume her.

"He wants to kill you," concluded Mjoll.

"Or turn her into whatever beast that was, under his complete control and deadly," Serana added. "How do we stop that? You're here for that reason right? To save yourself?"

With a slow nod, Yosa'Min looked at the Greybeards, worry knit upon their wrinkled faces. "Aye but… it's not enough. Learning who I truly am, accepting things of myself I have refused to, won't be enough to stop him. This isn't some simple journey of finding myself."

"What do you think is?" Mjoll inquired, a hint of desperation to her words. "What's the answer?"

She placed a hand to her chest, a warmth within it that had only grown with Serana's appearance. It was like having a miniature sun within her, warm and powerful, rising the closer Serana was to her. When she'd been a vampire the bond was different, a tether between them that gave her comfort. She'd instantly trusted Serana because of it, even the anger and hurt of being turned had subsided to explicit trust of Serana, listening to her every word, obeying her almost thoughtlessly. It'd changed her. "Arngeir," Yosa'Min said softly, "would you grant us some privacy?"

The Greybeards gave nods, shuffling away from them, feet echoing down the stone corridors as they departed. Once they were alone, the air was heavy, Yosa'Min staring at the grey grooves of the floor. "Yosa?" Serana asked, a tremble to her voice.

Yosa'Min stood up, not facing either of them, and ran a hand through her hair. She gave a shaky sigh, tapping a foot, the warmth in her chest twisting sickly. The others stood up as well, Serana lingering besides a frowning Mjoll, fear upon her face. "Gods," whispered Yosa'Min, finally turning to face them. For half a moment Serana saw orange in those blue eyes, pain filling her chest. "Gods dammit."

"Yosa what is it?" Mjoll asked, unable to keep her growing anxiety out of her voice.

"Serana, our bond," she said, staring at her the woman who had turned her. "What exactly, in your words, is it?"

She frowned. "It's as I've said before, a connection between sire and fledgling. It's supposed to make it easier to guide them into their new life, a sense of trust that neither can deny, always there. It's only formed when a sire has accepted their fledgling, and can only be gotten rid of if the fledgling is turned once more by another and the first sire's bond destroyed."

"Trust, yes," agreed Yosa'Min, placing a hand to her chest. "But that's not all it does."

Serana narrowed her eyes with thought, Mjoll blinking between them. "No. That's not."

"It also changes the fledgling." She drew closer, the twisting fire writhing in agony as she closed the distance, Serana grimacing with pain herself. "It changed me."

"What do you mean?" Asked Mjoll. "She turned you into a vampire, which changed how you behaved. What does the bond have to do with it?"

"What's that thing I like to say," Yosa'Min asked Serana, an edge to her voice.

Serana grimaced with understanding, Mjoll's confusion only doubling. "You're not one for gods or masters."

"Exactly." Yosa'Min dug her fingers into her chest now, as if she wished she could rip the pain from herself. "Yet there I was, subservient to you. I have never been one who didn't help my friends Serana but the way I acted around you… I swore fealty to you! I've only done that to the jarls in which I am a thane of their hold! I'm selfish yet there I was, doing anything I could to make you happy, putting you before me, forgetting my anger when we fought the moment I saw I'd hurt you. Everything was drawn to such an extreme with you."

"You what?" Mjoll balked. "Yosa that doesn't sound like you."

"Exactly!" She hissed, Serana wincing. "It wasn't just the fact that I was a vampire that was changing me, it was the very bond we both cherish!"

"Siulon said Molag Bal uses connections that were already existing to claim souls," Mjoll interjected, "like a bond. Your bond."

"No!" Serana gasped. "The dreams, this pain, it's all my fault?"

Yosa'Min calmed a moment, lips a thin line, eyes burning cold blue. "You saved me," she replied, "but you cursed me too. You changed me in so many ways, both for the better and worse."

Serana stepped towards her, only for the rising inferno to scream within them, both women stumbling away in agony. Mjoll darted to Yosa'Min, catching her before she fell onto the food-laden table. "What's going on? What's wrong with you two?"

"Molag Bal is," hissed Yosa'Min once she'd leveled out, gripping the table and her love's shoulder. "He doesn't like that I'm realizing his plan."

"To use the bond? That's how he's attacking you?"

"It is," she said, meeting Serana's gaze. She was hunched over as if wounded, clutching her chest. Instantly Yosa'Min felt a burst of concern, the same as when she was a fledgling, wanting to rush to Serana's side and forget her own pain. "Fuck."

"I'm so sorry," Serana whispered through gritted fangs. "I didn't mean for any of this. If I had known-"

"You couldn't possibly have," reassured Yosa'Min. "But now we have to deal with this."

"How?"

"Can you break it?" Suggested Mjoll. "Perhaps there's a ritual? Falion might know, or Siulon!"

Yosa'Min closed her eyes, recalling the dreams she'd had as of late. The last time she'd faced Molag Bal stood out in particular to her. "I think I nearly did the other night," she said, "in a dream."

"Was it four nights ago?" Serana asked softly.

"Aye."

"Fuck, Yosa'Min," whispered Serana pinching her brow. "I thought I was dying that night. I was speaking with Vex, looking for you, and then I couldn't stand, I couldn't even breathe. My chest felt like it was on fire! I passed out, there in the back alleys of Riften."

"You- What? I just got near your soul and it did that?"

"Were you alright in the end?" Mjoll asked, concerned for the woman she did not know well. She'd kept an eye on Serana after the battle in Castle Volkihar, but they hadn't exactly spoken to one another even within a group. All she truly knew of her were the rose-tinted stories Yosa'Min told her, clearly holding the vampire with a certain reverence that made her wistful. She wondered if Yosa'Min spoke of her like that to others.

Nodding, Serana sat down in a chair. The pain was bubbling, rising within them with a certain urgency, as if the source was growing desperate. "Vex uh… revived me."

"You fed from her," Mjoll said bluntly.

"She is more generous than I imagined a thief might be," Serana said. "The fact that she even agreed to meet with me was a surprise in of itself. I half expected she would ignore my letters despite agreeing to writing at Lydia's funeral."

Yosa'Min blinked. "You two are… writing one another?"

Averting her gaze, Serana gave a small nod. "She is most impressive. I just… I didn't want to only have one friend, and one I would no longer be able to see often or at all. I can't believe she said yes at all." A smile graced Serana's beautiful face, a haze to sunset eyes that so often filled Yosa'Min's eyes when she thought or spoke of her love. Then Serana snapped back to reality, reminded of what was going on. "She told me how you went to Winterhold, but not why, just saying you needed help from the mages. But by then the bond was burning so powerfully I could follow it towards you. That's how I found you here."

"So she was useless," Yosa'Min hissed briskly, a bubble of jealousy rising within her. "As usual."

"Yosa'Min!" Mjoll shouted. "That's not true and you know it."

Mouth agape, Serana stared at Yosa'Min, struggling to understand why she would dare say such a thing of her best friend. "Excuse me?"

Cringing, Yosa'Min covered her face. "I'm sorry. I… I don't know what just came over me. The thought of you…" She lowered her left hand from her face, staring at the ring scar upon her palm that was smaller on the back side. Her bite mark scar burned along with the rest of her. "The bond…" She whispered in dawning realization. "It's… It's still controlling me."

"What?"

"It was weakened when I was cured but… It's not just still here, it's still swaying me. The thought that someone else might hold your attention, that _Vex_ held your attention and not me… It actually upset me. I should be happy for you and I'm jealous." Yosa'Min stepped away from Mjoll, trembling some. Serana leaned away from her, as if afraid of the pain such closeness would bring. "But being near you is making it have strength again."

"You were like that?" Mjoll asked briskly, disbelief thick.

"I didn't really have to fight for her attention," Yosa'Min countered, "but if I had… I would have. Yes. I'd have done almost anything to make you happy Serana." Serana hid her face, shame flooding over her. The connection between them, something she was grateful to still have at first, twisted like poison, filling her lungs and veins.

"But it's forced," Serana replied, "it's all fake. He's making you feel that way, it's how he designed fledglings. And I… I was different too. I'd never been responsible for another soul before yet there I was, doing everything I could for you. I wanted you happy but… I wanted you to be mine. Gods the thought of you being cured filled me with such dread. Because what sire would want to lose their fledgling? The thing that made them stronger, gave them status, that grew their clan?"

Mjoll found herself between them, the pair staring at one another in awe. She felt like she was trying to hold back to tidal waves. The tension in the room was suffocating, crackling between the pair with Mjoll caught in the middle, helpless. "The bond controlled the both of you? Molag Bal manipulated you for his own desires. He's the Prince of Domination, he wants everything beneath him. Why waste time like this? Why play a long game when he could easily collect your souls?"

"Because that's no fun," Yosa'Min said, feeling his fangs upon her neck. His claws ghosted down her spine. "He plays with his food, lets them think they have a chance and then tears it all away just to see the look upon their face. He's done it every time in my dreams."

"He's a manipulative, sadistic, lying rapist," hissed Serana, feeling where he had touched her in the past, remembering the Summoning Day. "He'll do anything to get what he wants, destroying everything he touches." The inferno was near to erupting, a roar within their ears, his presence felt in High Hrothgar. "Yosa! Enough of this! We have to break this bond!"

"What if- What if that kills you! Just getting close nearly did!"

"That was just him doing as he always does!" She hissed through the pain, thankful for the chair as she doubted she could even find the strength to stand. "He wants me to convince you otherwise, to turn you back even! I'm not doing it!"

"Everything I feel about you… Serana… What if none of it's real? Just like everything else what if it's the bond?" Yosa'Min uttered, swaying where she stood. Mjoll held her hand, trying to support her despite her fears. "What if I wake up and I feel nothing to you?"

"I'm willing to risk that for you."

"Serana…"

"Fuck his bond!" She screamed, voice echoing down the halls. "We don't need his bond, his connection! We can make our own! You are not dying because of me dammit! He isn't ruining another person I love!"

Yosa'Min grew quiet, body screaming, legs trembling beneath her. "I don't know if I really love you anymore," she said, "I don't know if it's me or the bond. What's true."

Serana rose from the chair with all the will she could muster, the pain greater for her perhaps due to still being a vampire. She stepped in front of Yosa'Min, face twisted with the inferno blazing within her. "Then we find out for sure," she said, taking Yosa'Min's other hand, the touch further stoking the raging internal flames. "We find out what's real."

She stared up at Serana, heart racing in her chest, catching the way the vampire inhaled sharply. "You want to turn me," Yosa'Min whispered, not in accusation but as if it were fact, "don't you?"

"Gods yes," Serana admitted, eyes lidded. Mjoll bristled with alarm, looking for anything she might use as a weapon. She found a sword upon a wall, and rushed to wield it. "Both of you. Right now. I'm trying incredibly hard not to I swear."

"I know." Yosa'Min smiled ruefully. "I trust you."

"This is what he wants," Serana uttered thickly, "for me to turn you, or for you to succumb to him. I'm sure of it." Her claws began to dig into Yosa'Min's hand. It was beyond clear she was struggling with all her will not to attack, yet was transfixed in place, unable to leave.

"Then let's stop him," Yosa'Min replied, "let's steal my soul back one last time. I'm pretty good at stealing after all, it's almost like second nature to me." She inhaled sharply, realization smashing into her skull. Serana gasped softly with effort, falling to her knees, claws making Yosa'Min's hand bleed. The one thing that was always eating at her, that she tried to quit and give up so many times yet eventually she'd wound up doing it again in some form. The thing she couldn't escape.

"You don't know the final part of your name yet," Mjoll interjected, slowly moving towards Serana with the sword. "Even if breaking the bond is the key, what if you're not strong enough to face him? Siulon said-"

"I do know," Yosa'Min cut her off, smiling up at her.

"What? How?" Mjoll asked, frantic.

"Molag Bal said so himself," she laughed, the flames consuming her, skin starting to glow. "I'm a thief, **Tifiir** , and I'm going to do what I do best." Then everything dissolved into white, Molag Bal's voice thunder, and then Mjoll found herself alone, neither Yosa'Min or Serana anywhere to be seen. She dropped the sword with a scream.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Coldharbour.

A realm of Oblivion like a twisted vision of Nirn, the sky a slowly moving sludge and air so cold it burned. Ruins were cropped up between desolate mountains, twisted dead trees rose to the unsettling sky, cages with malicious design strung from them over the caverns that sliced between grey rock. Everything was smothered in a blue grey hue, ghostly blue orbs floating every so often as the dismal landscape gave way to villages and ruins, all of them crumbling, some with massive crystals that jutted skyward, soulless husks mining away at them.

Rocks and ruins floated across the sludge of a sky, drifting like leaves down a slow moving stream. The only true burst of color came from the luminescent rivers that curved through the ever shifting terrain, rising up in some places where gravity should have carried it down instead, thick and gelatinous instead of free flowing. It was desolate and foreboding, a deep sense of wrong emanating from the the realm. From the mountain Yosa'Min found herself upon, it all paled in comparison to the massive entity that dominated the horizon.

Molag Bal.

He was truly monstrous, an abomination pulled right out of a child's nightmare. He lacked any skin, instead grey muscle was pulled taught against bone that jutted out in some places, giving him an undead appearance. Without any lips to hide behind, jagged fangs gleamed with malice as he sneered down at her, glowing blue eyes beneath a heavy set brow fixing Yosa'Min in place. His spindly limbs ended in claws, while his feet were something of a mix between a bull and an eagle, talons instead of hooves. A long spiny tail snapped across the horizon, leveling mountains caught in its wake, pointing down at her in accusation.

Even his horns, a pair curving from the side of his wide face forward, seemed to be pointing at her, while several smaller ones sprouted across his face and down his skull. A part of her could see similarities with the vampire lord form of the Volkihar, bat like ears tilted towards her and the general structure of his face. The only clothing adorning his twisted form was a decorative loincloth which reached his knees, a horned skull affixed upon his waist. The nightmares did him no justice, only capturing a fraction of his grotesquity.

"Yosa'Min," he hissed, the Oblivion realm shaking with his voice. "Nice to have you finally join me."

"This is the only time I'll ever be here," she vowed, shakily rising to her feet. Her body ached from her journey into Coldharbour, icy fire lacing each breath she took of the thin air. Her head was pounding, vision blurring every so often as she felt a terrible weight press down on her. Gritting her teeth, she glared up at the daedric prince. "Where is Serana?" She tried searching for her through the bond, but in Coldharbour it was scattered, twisting all around and lost to the winds. All she could tell was Serana was somewhere within the Oblivion plane.

"Aw you're worried for her when you should be worried for yourself? Isn't it adorable the lengths a fledgling will go to save their sire?"

"I'm not scared," she retorted, "I'll defeat you and be rid of you forever."

Molag Bal laughed, mock horror upon his voice when he spoke next. "You plan on killing me? Is that it?" His teeth were bared into a snarl, Molag Bal drawing closer to her, each step carrying him miles across Coldharbour. Ruins and villages that seemed plucked from Nirn were crushed underfoot, thunder echoing across and battering Yosa'Min further against the mountain ledge she was standing upon. "When will your feeble mind comprehend the impossibility of your situation? Your soul is _mine_ , and it will belong to me again once more."

"And when will you understand I'm not giving up! I will never give up!" She screamed back, hands balled into fists. She wished desperately for a weapon, a bow especially, but she was unarmed upon that ledge, the wind whipping past with growing intensity. She felt small and weak, helpless in Coldharbour with a Daedra coming for her soul. A shiver ran down her spine, Paarthurnax's voice rumbling reassurances that she knew could only be her imagination. _Focus mal dovah._ Yosa'Min closed her eyes for a moment, trying to center herself, thinking upon the lessons he had taught her. Four days might have been a short amount of time, but for her, Laat Dovahkiin, it might as well have been years worth of training. "I'm not powerless," she whispered, before snapping her head up and screaming. "Now where is Serana!"

He paused, smiling down at her with as much amusement as his taut face could express. "Perfect," he uttered, Coldharbour shuddering in warning before his tail came around, aimed right at Yosa'Min. She swore violently as she saw it approaching, feeling slow almost given its magnitude but she had already seen the power within it. Moving the only direction she could, Yosa'Min leaped from the ledge, sliding down the mountainside to the ruins below. All she could hear was rocks being destroyed as his tail sliced through the stone, dragging across the surface as dirt and rock exploded into an avalanche behind her.

Her hand bled as she tried to slide into any shelter, using it and her boots to steer herself towards a set of ruins jutting from the cliffside. A faint blue orb pulsated near what looked to have once been a bell tower now fallen on its side. Yosa'Min hissed through her teeth as she aimed towards it, sliding at a terrifying pace. Just as she were to crash into it, she focused upon a word of power, shouting as she jumped from the steep mountainside into the belfry. " **FEIM ZII GRON!** "

She became translucent, only an outline of shimmering white as she collided with the old metal bell, feeling none of the impact that otherwise might have killed her. Moving without hesitation, she clambored to the side where the belfry would shield her from the avalanche of stone. Barely a second had passed before the rubble crashed down. Stone pelted the bell until a larger one knocked it clean off. The other side collapsed under the weight of rock while Yosa'Min prayed her side remained intact. It felt like hours before the rocks stopped, Yosa'Min returning to normal and gasping in the shelter, hunched down with eyes shut.

Opening her eyes as the last sprays of dirt fell, Yosa'Min's breath caught in her throat as she met one glowing blue eye, Molag Bal staring at her through what remained of the belfry. "Aren't you a slippery one," he said, voice deafening at such a closeness, pain exploding in Yosa'Min's skull. "I'll enjoy destroying that spirit of yours!" The belfry exploded into rubble as his claws smashed through, gripping Yosa'Min between his powerful hands, each finger dwarfing her in their size.

Her head swooned with the force of him rising to his full height, lungs screaming in protest as he squished her between his fingers, not quite crushing her entirely. Blood filled her mouth, a rib cracking as he squeezed, a low cackle emanating from him. He rose her to his face, the glow of his eyes so bright it blinded her, Yosa'Min having to shut her eyes to shield herself from the pain. "You know Yosa'Min," he said, squeezing harder, "I expected more from you. I looked forward to our fight even, a foe worthy of crushing beneath my heel!"

She spat blood onto his hand, baring her fangs. "I've been known to disappoint before, don't flatter yourself thinking you're something new," she hissed, fire bubbling in the back of her mouth. " **YOL TOOR SHUL!** " Flames spewed forth, washing over the daedra who shrieked as his flesh was burned. He squeezed harder upon Yosa'Min. Her breath stopped short, twisting with the torment, fire licking upwards as she screamed before dying out entirely. Tears welled in her eyes as he crushed her legs, her cry ripping skyward, before he snapped his wrist and sent her flying across Coldharbour. The sky and ground changed places as she was thrown, nauseating and confusing. When she was finally able to figure out what was going on, mind blank with pain almost, she summoned her Thu'um as quickly as possible.

" **FEIM!** "

Once more she became translucent, crashing into a mountainside without suffering further injury. Her legs were numb, unfeeling as she lay upon the stone, tears streaming down her face as waves of heat rose from her lower back, at least one rib cracked. She could taste blood as she struggled to sit up, Molag Bal turning towards her with a sneer of disdain. "Come on!" He bellowed, tail lashing out and destroying more mountains. "You're so weak! Why am I even surprised? You had to be helped by three others to defeat the soul you were destined to kill. You're not even strong enough to kill Alduin on your own, of course you're no match for me."

The shout wore off quickly, Yosa'Min clutching her side, gasping in hot breaths. Her vision blurred for a moment, Yosa'Min struggling to find the focus to cast a healing spell. Still her legs did not respond, cold like ice from her hips down. "I am strong," she proclaimed through blood, struggling still to sit up. Finally she managed to upright herself, gasping wetly, bursts of pain filling her skull.

"How?" He demanded. "The power you possess is borrowed. You are no dragon, you're a redguard, a mortal soul with as feeble a body as her mind. Yosa'Min is nothing more than a washed up hero who thought she could become something better only to fail time and time again. She's pitiful really, a drunken harlot, an arrow without a target. How many times have you lost your purpose Yosa'Min? How many times have you gone adrift?"

"I've found a purpose," she proclaimed, ribs digging into her lungs, blood filling her mouth. "I'm going to save Vastin."

"For how long this time? _If_ you ever find your brother, what will you do then?" He asked cruelly, flashing his tail and toppling more mountains. Claws reached for her, Yosa'Min trying to drag herself to the edge where she could fall down the mountainside, but he grabbed her before she could escape. "You will never find a true purpose again, because you're nothing more than a waste of space. You should have jumped from that lighthouse instead of cowarded out." Hot rancid breath fell upon her face, making Yosa'Min gag. She winced at the brightness of his eyes, like two blue suns burning into her. "My claiming of your soul shall be a charitable act. No one will have to suffer your existence ever again."

Legs dangled like snapped tree limbs, her leather armor bloodied, the pain near to consuming her as he squeezed upon her chest, ribs feeling as if they might collapse entirely. She couldn't even scream, breathless torment slipping from her throat. "What was that?" He questioned, dropping her onto his other palm, delighting in her breaking one bit at a time. "You want to give up?" With a guttural roar of defiance Yosa'Min punched his palm repeatedly, gaining an amused laugh from the daedric prince. "Do you really think you can defeat me like this? Yosa'Min this is almost embarrassing."

Grimacing up at him, tears of pain in her eyes, Yosa'Min focused upon the burning rage within in her, calling it forward with a mighty cry. " **STRUN BAH QO!** "

The sludge of a sky twisted violently, lightning striking down from the viscous clouds. Molag Bal seethed as they hit, stumbling the mighty daedra. His hand tightened around Yosa'Min. A gale of wind smashed against Molag Bal, sheets of rain the same gelatinous blue as the rivers slamming into him, ashen muscles hissing as they burned against him. His own hiss rose above the thunder as more lightning zapped him, a tempest bursting into life with only three words.

"This is my realm!" Screamed Molag Bal, slamming his fist into a ruin. Yosa'Min screamed as he dragged it along through the stone buildings lost to eons of decay. "I am lord and master here! Not you!" He pulled his hand back up, ready to bite her in two, only to find Yosa'Min was no longer there.

"What?" He hissed with rising agitation, not liking her turning the tables on him one bit. "Where did you go you worthless whore?" Fat glowing raindrops obscured his vision, lightning blasting his body, wind whipping around him strong enough to nearly make him stumble. It picked up further, sweeping across Coldharbour, shifting like Yosa'Min's fury taken physical form. The clouds rotated violently, lightning arching outwards, turning into a tornado that slammed into Molag Bal with the force of a hurricane. The daedric prince screeched in outrage, trying to push back the twister, squaring his feet to keep it from moving any further. Smoke rose from his flesh as the glowing liquid burned, lightning danced across, jumping from horns to claws and back again.

"Enough!" He roared, grabbing the tornado and twisting around, snapping the clouds in half as a burst of blue light exploded from his chest. Suddenly the sky was clear, revealing itself to be an almost entirely empty void, patches of twinkling stars from other planes of Oblivion drifting along a violet ribbon of light. "You cannot defeat me Yosa'Min!" He bellowed, slamming a foot down and causing earthquakes to ripple out from his foot. The rubble of a ruin collapsed, revealing Yosa'Min to him. "There you are… Was that your best shot? That? A little storm? You should have brought Auriel's bow rather than use some parlor trick to defeat me. How foolish, how reckless, can you be?"

She laid on her belly with a trail of blood behind her. She coughed up crimson, retching upon the twisted stone. Every inch of her insides was an agonizing mess, something hard pressing into something soft, something torn and something bleeding. Her spells were not strong enough to reverse the damage, doing little more than restoring her blood so she did not fade away. "You know," she hissed out, voice little more than a hoarse rattle, "you sure do like to tear down your enemy before you kill them, don't you?"

"Seeing you struggle makes the hunt worth it," he said maliciously, "the way you try so desperately to stop me, giving it your all, only to fall beneath me as you were doomed to. Just as all mortals are. You are nothing compared to the might of a daedric prince."

"You really are sadistic," she uttered, "you're toying with me aren't you? All it really took was you grabbing me and I'm almost out of the fight." Her legs were useless, no sensation, no feeling, simply dead weight beneath her. Her mind was little more than pain. She was alone, Serana nowhere to be found, with the all powerful god of this realm of Oblivion playing with her like a cat does a mouse. She was weaponless, injured, and as much as she tried to dismiss his cruel words something about them pushed at her. There was a truth to them, somewhere, not just empty lies. He knew something about her, seeing into her soul though the bond.

 _My soul._

She placed a hand above her heart, pained fluttering in her chest, a plot forming within her mind. "I'm so sorry Mjoll," she whispered, hearing him draw nearer, wishing Mjoll was there at her side yet grateful she would be spared this torture. "I thought I knew what I was doing."

"Your arrogance has been your downfall," Molag Bal decreed. He smashed through the ceiling of the ruin she was within, and plucked her by her jerkin. "The Thu'um is nothing compared to my power."

Her head swooned once more as she was lifted towards his face, this time keeping her eyes open as she glared into those burning blue suns. Blood trickling from her mouth, Yosa'Min gave a small smirk, confusing Molag Bal. "Oh I wouldn't say that."

"And what would-"

" **VO AHRAAN!** "

Yosa'Min's body was consumed in a burst of hot white light, washing over her, gentle warmth to the redguard but Molag Bal screamed and threw her once more into the mountainside. Her legs radiated the heat of a star, feeling returning to them in a heartbeat, the coppery taste of blood evaporating and pain vanishing entirely. Speeding away like an arrow, Yosa'Min couldn't help but laugh in triumph as she readied herself to land on the stone, flipping over with grace. She was perfectly restored, no hint of the pure torture she had just suffered through if one ignored the scuffs and cuts upon her armor. " **FEIM!** " She absorbed the impact with ease, straightening up and wiping dirt from her shoulder. "That all you got?"

"You…" Molag Bal was without words for a moment, staring down at her. "You lied, you still believe in yourself. How?"

Glaring at the beast of nightmares, Yosa'Min clenched her fists. "Because I finally know who I am, and there is nothing you can say or do to take that away from me. You can break my body, you can kill me even, but you will never have my soul."

Something inside Molag Bal snapped, the sadistic glee he had taken in manipulating and tormenting her gone as nothing but hardness filled his eyes. "So be it," he said in a low voice, tail poised to strike. "Your soul is worth too much to lose."

"I thought I was worthless?"

His face twisted into a horrifying snarl, but all Yosa'Min felt was anger of her own. A strength filled her, rising up her spine and radiating along her skin. The shout she had just used was one she'd never uttered before, never even learned either from Paarthurnax, the Greybeards or a word wall. Instead, she'd created it, combining the two words into something new, giving it power and will just as Paarthurnax had instructed. She was done treating the Thu'um as some secondary skill, some back up plan, as if it were shameful to use except for those do or die situations she always found herself in. It was time to embrace her identity as Dovahkiin. She knew who she was, understood her shortcomings and what she wished to improve of herself. She would overcome her true nature like Paarthurnax had, but first she needed to accept it.

With a deep breath, Yosa'Min invoked her true name.

" **NOK AH TIFIIR!** "

A burst of brilliant light consumed Yosa'Min, as if all the lightning in Nirn had struck her. For a few moments she was completely obscured by the crackling energy, until it began to coalesce into something akin to a dragon. Scales of shimmering red light wrapped around her body, some of them accented a rosey pink color, Yosa'Min visible within. Claws wrapped around her fingers and feet. Spikes manifested down her spine as a pair of wings emerged from her back, radiant and beautiful. A long tail fell behind her, no noise made as it dropped onto the ground. Meanwhile her face was shielded by a draconic skull that materialized, long horns curving away, and a blue light burned above her eyes.

Every inch of her was invigorated, power coursing through her body in waves that rippled along the draconic armor of light. Yosa'Min allowed herself a moment of awe, looking down at herself, feeling the certainty and power that filled her. She looked up at Molag Bal, grinning in triumph as he swiped his tail at her once more. Taking off into a run, Yosa'Min spread her wings, feeling them without thought, truly an extension of herself made whole at last. Just as his tail began to crush the ground beneath her, Yosa'Min reached a cliffside, diving off it without a moment of hesitation. Wind filled her wings, catching her as she rolled and flapped, evading Molag Bal's strike with grace.

"I'll ask you one more time!" She screamed as she flew towards his face. Her voice reverberated like thunder, rivaling Molag Bal's. "Where is Serana!"

"How about you give up and I'll take you to her?" He hissed, swiping at her with his claws as if she were an annoying fly.

"Never!"

"Then we understand each other," he replied. A purple energy radiated along his spine, solidifying in his claw like hands. "But do you understand that even with your Thu'um you are still drastically out of your depth? You're never going to defeat me! I am Molag Bal!" The magic shot outwards, blasting Yosa'Min back who flipped over and over until she settled herself out.

"And I don't care!" She twisted around another swipe, sailing up along his torso, too small and too quick for him to stop her. Once all she could see was angry cerulean eyes, she opened her maw and let loose a torrent of flame as powerful as a proper dragon's. Molag Bal seethed, stumbling back as she burned his face. The magic regathered too quickly for Yosa'Min to escape, colliding into her with a vengeance, Yosa'Min almost able to feel his actual hate seeped into it. Purple flames burned along her translucent scales, eating away at her in a manner that sapped at her strength.

Diving low, Yosa'Min barely managed to avoid a second blast of magic. Wings flapped violently behind her, catching the gusts of wind generated in the strange realm. She banked towards his ankles, hoping to topple him from below. " **FUS RO DAH!** " The concussive wave of air smashed into Molag Bal's ankles, causing him to stumble but little else. He stomped his taloned feet, causing earthquakes and explosions of rock. Cursing under her breath, Yosa'Min tried to evade them but not even she was that swift. A boulder the size of a house smashed into her from below, causing her vision to momentarially white out with pain, spinning her helplessly through the air. Molag Bal caught her in his claws, bringing her up and not wasting any time with taunts of jeers as he tried to devour her whole.

" **STRUN BAH QO!** "

Once more the sky twisted, turning against the lord of the realm. Molag Bal roared with fury as loud as the thunder, Coldharbour shuddering with the clashing powers, deafening booms echoing across as he grappled with the very sky. Yosa'Min took shelter on one of the floating rocks, the blue liquid rivers picked up by the winds and stinging Molag Bal's grey flesh. Even she struggled with not being sucked into the vortex Molag Bal combatted, holding the very tornado between his claws. She dug her claws into the floating rock, feeling the force sucking at her, tail whipping behind her like a flag. The whistling roar of the tornado was ear-splitting, Molag Bal's shouting made incoherent against it. She could only hold on a moment longer before her claws slipped and she was sucked into it.

The storm was pure chaos, lightning zapping through it with the sole intent of destroying Molag Bal, illuminating the daedric prince in flashes. Yosa'Min tumbled like a leaf, burns upon her body from the gelatinous liquid that was swirling with the wind, something disturbingly wrong about it. Flapping her wings in an attempt to level herself out, Yosa'Min didn't see the swiping claws of Molag Bal, screaming out upon impact as all her thoughts burst into pain. Spiraling, Yosa'Min collided with a boulder caught in the maelstrom. She clutched it desperately, unable to make anything out in the twisting clouds she'd summoned. Her shimmering light draconic form was like a single star on a dark night.

A flash of blue was the only warning Yosa'Min had before Molag Bal surged, ignoring the storm itself now and going after her directly. Fangs as tall as a cottage flashed towards her, the daedra trying to devour her entirely. She opened her mouth in return, flames spewing forth directly into Molag Bal's gaping maw. Slapping her away, Molag Bal sent her through the air with enough force to eject her from the storm, only her magical form saving her from breaking further ribs as she twisted and tumbled. Like a bird with an injured wing, Yosa'Min struggled to stay aloft, some of her scales shimmering and fitzing like sparks from a fire.

Molag Bal tore the storm apart, his hands shaping Coldharbour once more to what it should have been, twisted and vile. The clouds dissipated, getting pulled back up into the sky where they belonged, turning once more to a thick sludge and hiding the other realms of Oblivion that had been visible. Standing atop a village now reduce to ruins was Molag Bal, seething with rage, violet ripples of magic around his body. A moment passed of Yosa'Min flapping there, the pair staring the other down, before he opened his maw. The magic trickled up his abominable form and consolidated in front of his monstrous maw, a chill filling the air before it shot forth, a beam of pure light and magic, a dirge like noise following it.

Yosa'Min dropped from the sky, closing her wings and letting herself enter freefall, desperately trying to dodge the beam. Her head swam with the force of the fall, barely able to keep her eyes open to see the quickly approaching ground. At the last possible second she reopened her wings, just enough lift in them to avoid smashing into the ground. The beam was following her, Molag Bal turning after her, everything caught in its path disintegrating. Villages and ruins vanished, the soulless husks the populated the realm were no more, nothing was left as Molag Bal tried to kill her.

Flapping with all she had, Yosa'Min started climbing into the sky as it moved low, the Thu'um upon her tongue. " **WULD NAH KEST!** " She moved like a blur, putting so great a distance between where she'd just been and where she appeared once more that Molag Bal lost sight of her for a moment. She repeated the process, finding the strength to use the Thu'um far quicker than she ever could before. Her body hummed with power, invigorated, heart racing.

As she sped up a mountain, hidden on the other side from Molag Bal, she caught sight of something that gave her pause. Far across Coldharbour was a triangular shaped stone pedestal with nothing large enough for her to make out upon it from such a distance, but a blue light softly spilled from it, calling to her. There was a tug on her heart. "Serana!" She screamed in realization, abandoning her fight with Molag Bal and flying to it as quick as she could, using the Thu'um to traverse the miles in only a matter of seconds. When she landed there was only a small cage barely large enough for its occupant, and a spire from each corner of the pedestal, blue magic tethering the cage down to it.

"Serana!"

Sunset eyes stared up at her, Serana hunched down in the small cage, clutching herself. Her clothes were torn, blood everywhere Yosa'Min looked, old and fresh puddles seeping into grey rock. "Yosa'Min?" She whimpered, shivering as she rubbed her eyes and took in Yosa'Min. "Is that… you?"

"It's me!" She proclaimed, rushing to her former sire's side. She could hear Molag Bal's roars like distant thunder, the sound of toppling mountains following as he searched for her. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She reached for the cage, only Serana's shout stopping her short. "No!"

"What?" Yosa'Min pulled her hand back.

"It's a trap!"

She blinked. "I can't leave you like this!"

"I know but… If you touch this cage he'll be here in an instant. I can hear you fighting him, and you're not winning."

"I'm not exactly losing anymore either." Serana grimaced, unable to hide the pain she was in. "What did he do to you?" Yosa'Min asked in a low voice. Serana hid her face. "Serana?" She began to weep. The anger she felt boiled over, consuming Yosa'Min. "I'm getting you out," she vowed, hands clenching. "We're going to defeat him."

"You can't kill a daedra in his own realm," Serana argued in a strained voice. "It's impossible. Only the aedra can kill a daedra and neither of us are that."

Yosa'Min drew as close to the cage as she could, wanting to hold Serana and comfort her but the cage stood between them. "We don't have to kill him," she replied firmly, "we just have to break this bond."

Serana looked down at her hands. Yosa'Min had never seen her so broken before, but she could easily understand why. "How?"

"Well first we're getting you out of that cage." Yosa'Min comforted, looking back to the spires that seemed the source of the magic binding her there. "Then we'll sever this bond one way or another."

"Yosa…" She whispered, "I'm sorry I can't help. I'm just… I'm useless."

"Hey," Yosa'Min replied, getting her to look up at her. She wore a pained smile, visible beneath the glowing dragon armor. "This isn't your fault. None of it. And when I get you out you're going to help me break this bond and get out of here. I can't do this without you. I need you Serana, I always will."

Tears welled in Serana's eyes, streaks down her cheeks making it evident they weren't the first she'd shed since arriving in Coldharbour. "Okay. I believe you."

The smile became softer. "Good," she said, before spreading her wings and flying over to a spire. It was at least as tall as Dragonsreach, Yosa'Min having to fly up it to reach the top where a blue crystal rested within, arcs of magic spiraling out until they turned into a solid line which connected with the rest above the cage. Examining it for a moment, trying to discern the best way to free Serana, Yosa'Min made up her mind and focused upon her Thu'um.

" **FUS RO DAH!** "

With the force to topple mountains, she destroyed the crystal and the upper half of the spire. Moving as quickly as she could to the next one, Yosa'Min could already feel a shift in the freezing air. Molag Bal's voice roared in fury across Coldharbour. "Yosa'Min!"

"Fuck," she hissed, reaching the second one and destroying it just the same. As she raced for the third and final one she could hear his feet upon the landscape, earthquakes making Serana's cage clatter as everything shook violently. Just as she reached the last one Molag Bal arrived, kicking her away from the spire while inadvertently destroying it himself. The magic surrounding Serana's cage imploded, tinkling for a few moments, before the cage dissolved entirely, freeing Serana.

Molag Bal wasted no time on words, reaching for the injured nord, only for Yosa'Min to zip past, scooping her in up her arms and rising into the sky. Serana clutched her desperately, eyes wide in terror. "Yosa I hope you know what you're doing because that's one pissed off daedra behind us!"

"Not a damn clue!" Yosa'Min said, fire filling her chest that she was painfully aware of. Sparing a glance down, she was startled to see a line of magic connecting them, difficult to discern it among the glowing magic surrounding her body but she could most certainly feel it. It reminded Serana of what they'd seen connecting Yosa'Min to the spectral of her hybrid form during her resurrection ceremony. "Is that… the bond?"

Serana blinked, touching it apprehensively, an intimate sensation overwhelming her. It was soft and peaceful, warmth that drew them both closer to the other. For a moment Yosa'Min stalled, focused entirely upon Serana, until she let go of it and Yosa'Min straightened herself out, having to shake her head to clear the thoughts of Serana that now ran rampant. "It is."

"How do we break it?" Yosa'Min asked, banking around a mountain as magic sailed after them, decimating everything in its path. Crackles of energy rolled over her, electrifying their blood but not harming them. "Can we cut through it?"

Serana gave another tug, once more splitting Yosa'Min's concentration. "It feels pretty strong," she said, "it's stronger the closer we are even."

"But distance doesn't break it," Yosa'Min countered, dropping low into a canyon where blackened ruins rested, Molag Bal's magic chasing them. She had to duck and dodge around jutting spikes of rock, a burst of wind filling her glowing wings and sending them swiftly through it. "What if…" She trailed off, looking over her shoulder for a split moment at the roar of magic behind them. "Fuck!" She gave a heave, using the Thu'um to give them a burst of speed, narrowly avoiding the beam of magic as it cut through the stone.

Yosa'Min darted into a crevice small enough that Yosa'Min doubted he knew they were there, or had seen them slip into it. Serana clutched her, shaking, eyes wide. "That was close."

"Yeah…" Yosa'Min hovered for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Her body was aching still, fire in her lungs and strain in her limbs. "I don't know how much more I can run away. This shout could wear off soon, I've never done it before I don't know how long it'll last."

A cold fury was in sunset orbs when Serana looked back at her, hands gripping her tightly, claws scraping magical light scales. "He wants to kill us," she said firmly, baring her fangs. "When he does he'll be able to claim your soul."

"What about you?"

"He already has mine."

Yosa'Min frowned at her. "Serana… Are you alright?"

Sunset eyes stared at her, fangs bared in a grimace, shaking in her arms. "No."

For a few moments Yosa'Min forgot about Molag Bal, couldn't hear the roars of frustration that shook the very realm. All she saw was her former sire, felt her trembling, and the cold rage within them both. "We're going to make him pay," she vowed, hugging Serana tightly. "He's not going to hurt you ever again."

A strained noise came from Serana. They embraced for a few moments more, before an explosion split the ground around them, rocks and dust exploding every which way. Yosa'Min's grip on Serana tightened, securing her against glowing scales, and she flapped her wings to escape the collapsing crevice. Rising into the sky, she was met with ice cold eyes, and a sneer that could make blood freeze. "Enough games," Molag Bal hissed, magic collecting along his skin, seeping out of his very flesh. "Your souls belong to me!"

Suddenly an idea formed in Yosa'Min's mind. "Do you trust me?" She shouted at Serana, rising higher into the sky.

"Of course!" Wind whipped along their bodies, the sludge above sucking at them, trying to devour them. Their eyes met, confusion in Serana's, fear in Yosa'Min's. The Dragonborn's grip loosened, Serana gasping, clutching magic scales tighter but they were smooth and shimmered like water. "Yosa!"

Yosa'Min let her go.

The dirge was a moment behind the beam, slicing through the sludge of clouds just as Yosa'Min vanished into them, a firefly of light for only a second before pure magic ripped through, vaporizing everything in its wake. Serana fell, reaching desperately, screaming, plummeting with tears as she watched the magic slice higher into the sky. The tether between them burned, straining against her, weakening the further she fell. Pain surged through her body, pure agony consuming her once more, her heart feeling as if it might burst. Molag Bal roared and attacked, trying to kill Yosa'Min as she flew through the clouds, Serana catching glimpses of her light through the thinner clouds.

Serana clutched the bond, trying to climb up it almost but it was impossible, the sensation of intimacy weakening. She could feel Yosa'Min through it, but it was fading the further she got. The pain built, Serana screaming her name, trying to reach Yosa'Min. Molag Bal fired another magical blast, the tether between them caught by it. Another crackle of magic ripped through her. It was as if lightning had struck her, pain far greater than anything she'd ever felt before, vision blotting out and breath leaving her.

The bond broke.

Serana plummeted.

" **TIID KLO UL!** "

Yosa'Min dove through the sludge of clouds, portions of her dragonic armor faded, wounded and bleeding. Time moved at a crawl for her, the brilliant beam of magic from Molag Bal's maw crackling and arching towards her as she deftly curled around it, flapping her wings at what felt like a normal pace to her, but to Serana and Molag Bal she was moving at an impossible speed. Everything within her hurt, a void of emptiness nestled in her chest, spreading outwards to consume her.

She couldn't breathe, she could barely think, chanting Serana's name over and over in her mind as she felt something tug at her, pulling her away. Magic swirled around her body, only a few feet from Serana as she dove at a neck-breaking pace, wings flapping with all their might. Her feet began to fade, slipping from Oblivion. "Serana!" She screamed, the vampire turning to shadows at a crawl, darkness licking up her body until she turned to wisps of shadowy bats, and surged towards the frantic Yosa'Min.

Yosa'Min threw her arms open as Serana manifested a few inches away, the pair colliding, spinning wildly like shooting stars. Yosa'Min held her so tight it hurt, but it was nothing compared to the void within her chest, or the Oblivion pulling at them. The shout wore off, the realm returning to its normal hue for Yosa'Min. Molag Bal screamed and tried to grab them, but flapping her wings once more, Yosa'Min curled around his swiping claws. They were both fading away, Molag Bal helpless to stop it. Half vanished already, Yosa'Min smiled back at the Daedric prince, Serana clutching her with wide eyes.

"I win," she hissed out triumphantly.

"No you don't!" He screamed, swiping at her one last time.

Almost entirely faded from the realm, Yosa'Min released one last shout. " **FUS RO DAH!** " A solid wave of air slammed into Molag Bal's claws, blasting them apart. There was an explosion of grey flesh and blood as he lost three fingers, ripped apart by her voice alone. As he collapsed, clutching his wounded hand, Coldharbour trembling with his screams, Yosa'Min and Serana faded away.

They'd escaped.

They'd won.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

With an implosion of magic, Yosa'Min and Serana found themselves in Skyrim once more. They fell into the cold snow together, Yosa'Min still clutching Serana in her arms. Her astral dragon armor was gone, stripped away in the journey back to Nirn. Feeling returned to them slowly, a fire that trickled through their veins as reality settled around them once more. Heads were heavy, lungs burned, limbs ached, but they'd done it; they'd broken the bond.

"I can't… I can't believe we did that," Serana whispered, voice ragged.

"Neither can I," she whispered back, just as exhausted.

She didn't want to move, every inch of her body hurt from the fight with Molag Bal. Her legs screamed in pain the worst. Even with the shout healing her she could still feel the soreness and pain. Yosa'Min opened her eyes slowly, a desperate laugh of jubilation caught in her throat, and looked at the vampire in her arms. She gasped as she looked at Serana without the bond to sway her for the first time. She'd never realized how beautiful she was. Alabaster skin, blazing sunset eyes, brunette locks disheveled from all the fighting, and even with all the bruises and torn clothes, Serana was a picture of perfection.

Yet what filled her wasn't attraction, not like the kind she'd often be overwhelmed with when met with such a beauty as she had Mjoll and Vex. She certainly found her attractive, but it was different than before. The fog of subservience was gone, nothing weighing her down or making her want to serve Serana in any way possible. There was a notable gap within her chest where she'd come to know the bond, but it didn't make her sad. In fact, it did quite the opposite.

Everything she felt for Serana, the love and friendship, was still there. Only it was pure, no shadows twisting those feelings around, light and innocent instead. She knew exactly who the woman in her arms was, and what they had suffered through together. The trials and tribulations they had endured as sire and fledgling hadn't fled from her mind, but instead felt clearer. She could look back and understand her own actions all the easier. Her terrible fear that all she'd ever felt for Serana was because of Molag Bal was proven false. He'd taken what was true and twisted it around, corrupting it as he did everything else, but now she was free.

A whirlwind of thoughts and memories filled her head as she took it all in, and she pulled away from Serana. The vampire blinked, reeling in her own realizations and the aftermath of such a battle. Yosa'Min shuffled upright, looking around rapidly. They were atop the Throat of the World, the Time Wound shimmering just a foot away, wavering with a twinkling noise.

"How did we get here?" She croaked, voice raw from the Thu'um wielding. Last thing she'd remembered before waking up in Coldharbour they'd been in High Hrothgar further down the mountain. Confused, she searched further, trying to piece it together. Her eyes settled on the Word Wall across the way with a certain ancient dragon atop it. What took her by surprise was those who had been speaking with Paarthurnax only to pause at their arrival.

Mjoll was standing besides the carved stone, Iona, Siulon and Falion as well. All of them stared at her in awe. Yosa'Min tried to run to them, but wasn't quite strong enough for that yet, instead falling to her knees into another snow drift only a few feet away. She grumbled with frustration, face down in the snow with no energy to rise.

"Yosa!" Mjoll's panicked voice came, heavy footsteps in the snow accompanying the shout. Strong arms lifted her, pure fear within Mjoll's golden eyes as they took in her love. Iona was right besides her, eyes wide as a restoration spell swirled around her hands and spread over the exhausted redguard. She gave a grateful sigh as she felt her strength return. Once finished Iona darted off towards Serana, leaving the pair alone.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"It's broken," Yosa'Min declared, holding Mjoll's face. "I'm free!"

Mjoll kissed her without hesitation, stealing what little breath Yosa'Min had recovered. A different kind of fire filled Yosa'Min from it, passion and desperation in the kiss Mjoll gave her. When they pulled apart Yosa'Min was stunned, blinking at her, silently yearning for an answer. She certainly wouldn't say no to a kiss but there was something extra within it, something that sent mental alarms ringing. "I was so scared I'd lost you," Mjoll said, brushing stray black locks from Yosa'Min's face. "When you two vanished in a portal two days ago I-" Her voice broke, tears in her eyes.

Yosa'Min kissed her softly, trying to soothe the pain from her. "We were gone that long?"

"Aye my love," Mjoll uttered, voice trembling. Strong arms held Yosa'Min so tight it hurt, but Yosa'Min was more than fine with it. She adored those arms and the strength of her love. "After you were gone Paarthurnax flew me to Winterhold where I spoke with Siulon. She and Iona came with me as we fetched Falion next. They seemed the only ones who might have an answer."

"What are you doing here? Why did you come back here and not the summoning stones in Morthal?" Yosa'Min questioned, "Wouldn't that be the place to go?"

"They theorized that given you'd vanished nearby, they could draw power from the Time Wound and bring you back," Mjoll explained, "they were about to start the ritual actually but I guess they needn't now. Divines I'm so happy you're back."

"I'm sorry to scare you like that," she apologized, kissing Mjoll tenderly. "I was pretty scared myself."

"I know you didn't mean to. But it's all okay now correct? He has no control over you?"

Yosa'Min nodded briskly. "I think so, yes. I can't feel him anymore or Serana…" She paused, pulling away enough to look back at where Serana was still laying down. The three mages were standing over her now, while Paarthurnax had glided over without Yosa'Min noticing, holding one wing overhead to shield her from the midday sun bearing down. "Serana, are you alright?" She called over, concern thick.

A long groan and a flicked hand was all she got. "Maybe we should check on her," suggested Mjoll, lifting Yosa'Min into her arms and carrying her back to Serana. Yosa'Min smiled tenderly, adoring that her love was strong enough to lift her with such ease.

As she was resettled on the snow Mjoll sat next to her, intertwining their fingers. "Serana? Are you going to make it?" Yosa'Min asked. Falion cautiously poked her with his boot, getting a swat from Siulon as if he were a child. The robed man scowled at her and adjusted his hood, Siulon only snorting in response.

"I need blood," Serana groaned, covering her eyes with an arm. "I had blood potions but Molag Bal destroyed them."

For once Yosa'Min didn't feel the immediate desire to give of herself, no urge that consumed her to give her former sire blood. Instead, she paused, and glanced at the others. Most of them remained stonewalled, Iona's eyes downcast, lips a thin line. Falion stroked his beard while Mjoll cast her gaze elsewhere, as if trying to avoid the unasked question. Siulon frowned heavily, blind eyes staring into the distance. Yosa'Min caught her grab her left wrist, the dunmer trembling even beneath her several heavy cloaks. The redguard rubbed her neck with her free hand, feeling the bite mark scars Serana had left her. She didn't want to feel those fangs again, sudden dread filling her, and she flinched.

"I'll give you some," said Iona, taking them all by surprise.

Serana moved her arm just enough to look at her. "Why? I caused the death of the one you loved didn't I? Inadvertently perhaps, but still…"

With a shrug as she rolled up her robe sleeve, Iona gave a warm smile. "Lydia taught me a lot about forgiveness. I do not blame you for her death, I blame Isran, and he paid dearly for it. Besides, you were courteous to us within your castle and helped us bury her properly. I have no quarrel with you."

That name was like a punch to the gut to Yosa'Min. Heart skipping, Yosa'Min blurted out, "She made it to Sovngarde!" Iona turned to her, finishing with rolling her sleeve up. "I spoke with her through a shout, I could only do it the once but she made it and she's so sorry for dying and leaving you but she's so proud of you and loves you. I'm sorry I didn't wait for you to be there to summon her but I just- I had to do it then. I had to know, and she's there, waiting for us."

"I know," she said softly, "Mjoll told me on the journey here. Thank you for telling me yourself however." There were tears in green eyes, but the smile convinced Yosa'Min they was of joy. Iona looked back at Serana, a warm smile like sunshine upon her face. "See? Nothing to worry about. Now would you like my blood? You've helped Yosa'Min escape Molag Bal, and I would like to repay you for that."

"Iona I might be able to cure if you're turned but I'd advise against taking such a risk," Siulon cautioned, Falion nodding in agreement. "Just because a solution exists it doesn't mean you should cause the problem."

"I trust Serana will not infect me," Iona said, smiling still at the awed vampire.

Serana grimaced, clearly in pain, and shifted up to sit. Yosa'Min helped her, Serana feeling weak against her. "Thank you Iona, your trust and generosity means much to me."

Moving closer, Iona offered her arm to the vampire who gingerly took it, biting carefully. With so many watching, though Mjoll averted her gaze and Siulon was blind, Serana felt rather uncomfortable with the whole situation. Falion watched with a clinical interest, no doubt wanting to learn more for his studies, while Iona couldn't take her eyes off it, grimacing in pain as Serana fed. Yosa'Min watched with soft horror, remembering when it was her both feeding and being fed from. Once more her hand went to the side of her neck, Mjoll watching her instead with a guarded expression.

When she was done Serana released Iona, licking her clean, and then gave a grateful nod. "Thank you," she said once more, wounds healing before their eyes. Bruises faded and cuts closed, a slight color filling her cheeks though she remained extremely pale. Her eyes faded in intensity, not quite as dangerously mesmerizing.

"Siulon, if only you could see this," Falion muttered, studying Serana. The blind dunmer made a noise somewhere between disgust and restrained murderous intentions, Falion stepping away accordingly. Iona snickered as she rolled her sleeve back down, cast a healing spell for good measure, and then offered a hand to Serana. Iona helped the vampire to her feet, Serana wearing a rather uncertain smile now.

"I think I should get friends like yours Yosa," she joked.

"I wouldn't mind sharing," Yosa'Min said, "if they were interested."

Paarthurnax laughed, lowering his wing as Serana tugged her hood back on to shield her from the sun. "To share without envy, true generosity, is a good step in overcoming your selfish nature mal dovah."

"I think it'll take more than that," Yosa'Min replied with a laugh, lightness within her she hadn't felt in so long she couldn't truly remember it. Had she ever felt this before? So light and free as if she might float away with a strong enough wind? Not since she was a child perhaps, if even then.

"Yosa'Min," Siulon said, drawing everyone's attention to her. "I am glad you are well. In your battle with Molag Bal, I assume you were able to break the bond." Everyone listened with rapt attention. There was a certain air to the dunmer that demanded respect and attention, though not through fear as so many others would use. Something about her simultaneously intimidated and befriended Yosa'Min.

Nodding, Yosa'Min placed a hand to her chest. There was nothing there that shouldn't have been, her heart free from his claws at last. "Aye. I used his own power against him to sever it."

"You dropped me," Serana accused tightly.

"It worked didn't it?"

Serana huffed and crossed her arms. "Next time you ask if I trust you I'm going to scream no."

Yosa'Min gave her a cheeky grin, nudging her with an elbow. "What if it's for a really good reason, like that one?"

"It better be."

Siulon wore a small smile as she continued, gaze just above the short redguard's head. "I believe you will be safe for now. Between accepting who you are and breaking the bond, the path he was using to steal your soul, he will be unable to reach you. However…" The smile faded, Siulon sighing. The jovial mood shifted in an instant. "This is a Daedric Prince we're speaking of."

"Molag Bal is ruthless, vengeful, and worse yet, proud," Falion continued for her, voice heavy with warning. "He will always seek your soul, scheming for it however he can, but for now he is defeated."

"An immortal deity as an enemy," Yosa'Min drawled, "sounds like just the sort of trouble I'd get into."

"Do not dismay," Siulon said, gesturing to those gathered. "You will always have allies fighting alongside you. Not just Iona and I, but the rest of the College is behind you."

Iona gave a hearty nod, throwing her arms wide. "The other apprentices will always have your back! Well, minus Fabien, but he doesn't know you yet… and is an asshole, but everyone else!" Siulon rolled her eyes. "And the teachers too, if only for the curiosity of the power you possess and the life you lead. Academically speaking, you're quite the subject to study." Iona then added sincerely, "And you'll always have me."

"Understanding your vahzah lund, your true nature, will arm you against him," Paarthurnax sagely put in, "knowing one self means you cannot fall for the nok, lies, of another."

Yosa'Min gave a nod, thinking upon the fight with Molag Bal. "He kept trying to tear me apart, mentally speaking. Saying twisted things I once would have believed, I almost did for a moment even." She clenched a fist. "But I'm strong now, I won't fall for his bile."

"You were always strong mal dovah," Paarthurnax corrected tenderly, nuzzling her. "You have simply recognized your strength. I am proud of you."

It only took a moment for tears to fill her eyes, heart overflowing just like her eyes. Yosa'Min wrapped her arms the best she could around his spiked snout. Iona joined in the embrace, Mjoll and Serana a moment behind, filling Yosa'Min with warmth. When they pulled apart, Yosa'Min wiped her eyes dry. "That… that means a lot. Nox hi, thank you."

He rumbled something that she could only compare to a cat's purr, and then flew back to his perch, settling on the stone with a content look upon his scaly face. She doubted he liked leaving it for long.

Falion turned to Serana who stood aside with a guarded expression. "You know," he said slowly, clearly choosing his words carefully, "he might come after you too."

"He already has my soul," Serana said, defeat in her voice. "What more could he want aside from my death, where I serve him no purpose?"

"You could be cured," he suggested, tension filling the air once more. "Your own soul begged me to kill you rather than remain in his realm when I resurrected Yosa'Min. After everything you've seen, what he's done to you, do you still follow him?"

"I do not follow Molag Bal!" She seethed between her fangs, glaring furiously at him. "I do not worship him!"

"Yet you-" Siulon cut him off with a slap to the back of the head, the mage stumbling from the unexpected blow. Iona tried not to laugh, given the situation, but Yosa'Min caught a smirk pulling at her lips.

"Silence Falion, before you upset her further. Can you not tell she has been through enough today? I swear I see more than you do most days." The dunmer then turned her attention back to Serana. "What he says is true, there is a cure, and the daedra that has cursed you may seek to punish you for the loss of Yosa'Min. Are you prepared for that?"

"I was prepared to die for her," Serana said firmly, "I will take whatever punishment he seeks to inflict with pride. He will know now that I am no longer his toy either, I am my own person."

Yosa'Min frowned, stepping towards her. "Serana…"

"I meant it Yosa, what I said as he took us. I love you, and I'm willing to do anything to protect you." Sunset eyes lingered on her face, trying to see something, searching with her heart. "I can't feel you anymore, the bond is gone, and I'm empty. But I'm happy for that, as strange as that sounds. I'm… lighter, or as light as I can be with his curse upon me."

"I still love you," Yosa'Min proclaimed, a shadow crossing Mjoll's face. "But it's different. It's like what I feel to Vex and Iona. You are my family, and you always will be."

Serana smiled down at her, and gave her a fierce hug. "I've always wanted a sister," she said, Yosa'Min returning the gesture in full.

Mjoll crossed over to the mages, drawing their attention while the pair shared a moment. "Could you grant us some privacy?" She requested, Iona giving her a curious look while the others shrugged and began to cross where Paarthurnax was perched. "Don't worry, nothing bad… I think," she added, Iona frowning in thought.

"You can trust her," she said simply.

"I know," Mjoll sighed, "that's exactly why I need to speak to them alone."

Relenting, Iona dipped her head and joined the others with the dragon. Mjoll took a moment to gather herself, and then turned to see the pair watching her with arched brows. "Mjoll, darling," Yosa'Min said, "is there a problem?"

"Yes. Me," she confessed, gaining confused frowns in an instant. "I need to apologize to the both of you."

"What could you possibly have to apologize for?" Yosa'Min asked, crossing her arms and jutting a hip.

"I've been a fool," Mjoll went on, further confusing them. "I've been… jealous and that is wrong of me."

Realization dawned upon Serana's face while Yosa'Min only seemed to understand even less. "The bond," Serana said.

"Exactly, yes," Mjoll agreed, grateful she followed along.

"Excuse me?" Yosa'Min asked.

Sighing, running a hand along golden braids, Mjoll found herself pacing. "When you arrived Serana I instantly felt threatened, when I should have been relieved that someone who would know more, who could better understand the situation, was there. Instead, I only saw a woman who stood between Yosa'Min and I. The way you two spoke to one another, the way you touched… It drove me mad with jealousy. Not to mention I could practically choke on the sexual tension in the air."

"There wasn't-"

"Yes. There was," Serana interrupted Yosa'Min. "Perhaps not for you but I'll admit I've had less than innocent thoughts of you in the past Yosa. I wanted to bite you, turn you, kiss you…" She trailed off, clearing her throat with a flush. "But I see now that was only the bond, another way Molag Bal was trying to manipulate us. I mean yes, you're a very attractive woman Yosa'Min, but there's someone else I'd rather taste as of late and she's a good bit taller than you and a whole lot paler."

Blue eyes widened. "Vex?"

Serana gave a nod, biting her lip. "She's… very impressive."

"Have you two, you know, done anything?"

"I wish," Serana sighed wistfully, further cementing her earlier statement. "Closest to a kiss was that revival bite. I don't even know if she feels the same."

"Vex is full of surprises and does what she wants," she remarked. Shaking her head, Yosa'Min refocused on her love, still not quite grasping why she felt as she did but desperately wanting to. "So it was just then, in High Hrothgar, that you felt like that? This was a recent development?"

"I wish I could say so, but no. Certainly the strongest and when I fully realized that's how I felt but Yosa, the way you would speak of her at any time… You idolized her."

"It was because of the bond."

"I realize that _now_ but that doesn't change how I felt _then._ In that moment." Mjoll clenched and unclenched her hands. "And then, when you needed me most, I was useless. I didn't have a damn clue what was happening in that hall, and when you were taken I- I panicked. I screamed. It took me half an hour to even come up with a decent plan! One you didn't even need."

Yosa'Min frowned, tucked her head and sighed. "I'm sorry to have made you feel like that," she apologized, "that was never my intention. I should have realized how you were feeling, bond or no." Yosa'Min crossed over to her, taking calloused hands into her own. Mjoll met her gaze, shame in golden eyes. "I never want to make you feel like you're not enough, because you are more than. You will always be enough my love."

"I never should have doubted you."

Yosa'Min squeezed her hands. "You have reason enough with my past," she reassured her. "We said we'd learn from the past, not forget it."

Mjoll sighed, further ashamed. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just felt so… inadequate. As if I'd never compare to Serana Volkihar." She tilted her head towards the vampire who lowered her head. Mjoll eyed her for a few more moments, before slumping her shoulders and looking at Yosa'Min. "It wasn't as if I thought you'd actually cheat on me, I trust you completely, but the mere notion that she filled your heart more than I tore me apart."

"She did, but not like how you do. Never like that. And now that she's no longer there, it just means I have all the more room for you." Yosa'Min cupped Mjoll's left cheek, running her thumb along jagged scars and face paint. Yosa'Min kissed her softly, having to push up on her tiptoes to reach her lips. Lingering after, Yosa'Min continued, "You tried to save me. You flew across Skyrim and back to get the help you needed to save me from a Daedric Prince. Perhaps you couldn't cast the spell yourself but Mjoll you did everything within your power to save me. That's not even mentioning everything you've done for me for the past month or so! It's not Serana who held me as I cried and soothed the nightmares from my mind! Or Serana who knew who to seek out to fix the problem I was almost willing to accept as a part of life."

She freed one hand to place a finger against her chest, staring directly into Mjoll, refusing to let her think it some lie to make her feel better. She believed every word she said. "It was you who suggested I speak with one of the Heroes of Old, and it was you that supported me every step of the way. I wouldn't have found the courage to climb this mountain if not for you by my side, nor would I have even been brave enough to speak with Siulon to know what was going on. I needed you, and you were there for me." She squeezed the hand she still held. "I will always need you Mjoll. You are the only one I'll ever love. You are the one I choose to fight for. Nothing and no one is making me feel this way, controlling me, manipulating me; this is all me, a liar telling the truth. I choose you. You are my Lioness, my Kitten, and my love. No one else."

The shame and guilt fell from broad shoulders, acceptance filling golden eyes. Mjoll squeezed her hand, leaning down towards her. "I choose you too."

They shared a passionate kiss, forgiveness filling their hearts. Yosa'Min wrapped her arms around Mjoll's neck, and quickly found herself lowered into a dip, giggling softly into the kiss. When they pulled apart there was no doubt between them, not even a strand of uncertainty. All that existed was love.

"You know," Serana purred mischievously, "you should probably show off that new shout of yours Yosa. Maybe take your love for a flight."

A fanged grin spread across the short woman's face, Mjoll arching her brow in confusion. "That sounds like a splendid idea Serana. Mjoll? May I take you for a flight?"

"On Paarthurnax's back?"

"I was thinking more in my arms."

Mjoll gave a skeptical look, examining her love. "What? How?"

" **NOK AH TIFIIR!** "

The astral armor reformed around Yosa'Min, shimmering and brilliant, the proud warrior falling into the snow in alarm. Yosa'Min couldn't stop her laughter at the bewildered expression of her love. "That's new!" Shouted Mjoll.

"Aye it is, care for some fun?" Yosa'Min offered a hand, claws of light surrounding her fingers.

"You promise you won't drop me?" Mjoll asked as she accepted it, Yosa'Min pulling her into an embrace with far more ease than she normally might.

"I never would," Yosa'Min vowed.

"Best keep her to that!" Serana teased, crossing to the Word Wall.

Paarthurnax raised his head and roared in triumph, the others covering their ears from the volume. "Pruzah drehlaan mal dovah! Well done!" She beamed back at him, spreading her wings and assuring her grip on Mjoll was firm. "Come, come, I will carry you all home now, it is time to fly!" Paarthurnax declared, jumping down so the mages and Serana could climb onto his back. Even with his age he could handle four passengers easily.

Yosa'Min took off with a mighty flap of her wings, Mjoll shouting in alarm, voice pitching wildly as the snowy mountain top sped away. Her cries of panic soon became laughter, clutching Yosa'Min with a death grip. Paarthurnax was quick to follow, rising into the sky behind her. He roared in triumph, singing a song in dovahzul, and it took her a moment to realize it was an old shanty.

"Guess I could carry you down the mountain after all!" Yosa'Min teased, looking down at Mjoll who laughed in response.

"I love you," Mjoll shouted, hair wild around her beautiful face, a sight Yosa'Min did not want to forget anytime soon.

Yosa'Min bent her head down to nuzzle the warrior between her arms. "I love you too."

 **END**

 **The Legend of Yosa'Min will continue in the upcoming sequel "Lost Souls".**

* * *

 **AN: That time has come at last, the end of the story. Thank you for reading "Dovahkiin" and I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. It took a bit longer to write this than I originally anticipated, but that more so has to do with life than the story itself. The very first idea of Dovahkiin came to me over three years ago, and it means a lot for me to finally have it completed, and about a thousand times better than the first idea. It's not a full length feature, sure, but it felt important to share and worthy of its own story instead of being tacked onto the start of "Lost Souls". Given the impending holidays, some pre-planned vacations, and just how life tends to be, I don't expect "Lost Souls" to be out before the end of the year. That being said, there will be some "Tales From Tamriel" installments to come, one which will be out later this week even! So thanks again for reading, reviewing, and in deciding to spend time in Yosa's world. I'd truly love to know what you think of this story, so do be sure to leave your final thoughts! And to any who will read later, thank you as well.**

 **Cya next time, and Happy Holidays.**

 **(Also hey, is that legitimately happy ending? Did you know I can do that? Apparently!)**


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